Whispers In The Dark
by midnightwriter1898
Summary: I was walking down the streets of L.A, not sure how I'd gotten here or where I was going, only knowing that my head ached and that I was blind. And it was then that Shane Gray decided to save me. -AU- -Smitchie-
1. One

**A/N: **_Sorry guys, I can't seem to help posting new stories when I haven't finished my old ones, haha XD Anyways, this is somewhat AU, since Camp Rock never happened, and Shane's not exactly a huge jerk in this story...;) I know we all love jerky Shane, and he'll still have a little bit of that occasionally, but he's not gonna be that bad. He's much nicer, because sometimes a nice Shane is awesome too :) And Mitchie's slightly different, too... *insert evil smirk* But anyways, on to the story... give it a chance? And maybe review with your thoughts? ;)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock ;(_

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**I **was walking down the streets of L.A., people brushing past me as they hurried about their busy little lives, as I stumbled each time, trying to find something to steady myself on. How I got here - simply walking, where I was headed I didn't know - was unknown to me, since the last thing I remembered was walking. _Walking, on and on_. It's a surprise no one had knocked me down, yet, since they had the advantage on me.

I _was_ blind, after all.

Other than that, I really had no idea what had happened. My head was aching, foggy, and all I wanted to do was lie down and take some Tylenol. I had no idea why I was in L.A., or where I had been before that, and I let out a groan of frustration as I moved my hand up to touch my head. I was completely, hopelessly lost.

I felt raindrops suddenly beginning to fall, and I might have attempted to cover my head if I wasn't busy holding my hands out in front of me awkwardly, feeling for anything that could potentially knock me over, or give me any clue as to where I was in L.A. It was a pretty big city, after all. I wished desperately I knew where I was supposed to be going. I was simply heading the in direction my feet were taking me, when maybe I should be trying to find someone who could tell me, at least, what street I was on.

Someone, once again, brushed pass me, and I could feel them hesitate before something was shoved into my hands. I stumbled in surprise, catching myself quickly, before my fingers ran over the object. _Sunglasses_. I silently thanked whomever had decided to be kind, before I slid them over my eyes, glad that someone had taken a moment out of their day to do a kind deed. If only they knew how much that simple act meant to me.

I continued walking, slowly so as to avoid any unnecessary falls, my feet aching with each step I took into the unknown. I briefly wondered how long I'd been walking for, and when I would be able to stop. I was beginning to worry - even though I couldn't see, I could sense that it was close to getting dark, and if there was one thing that I remembered, it was that no one should _ever_be out on the streets of Los Angeles after dark, unless they were asking for trouble.

As if I'd spoken my thoughts aloud, I suddenly collided with someone. Scrambling to steady myself, noting that the person didn't even try to help me balance, and I instantly knew this was going to cause trouble. _Just what I'd been trying to avoid._

"Well, what do we have here?" The voice was harsh, and I figured he was young, maybe in his late teens, and I could feel myself trembling. He sounded angry, cocky, and as I heard the shuffling of feet, I realized he wasn't alone. With a jolt of shock, I realized there had to be at least three others with him. I took an uncertain step back, before I reached out behind me and felt something solid. _They've cornered me._

"What's your name?" A second voice asked, and I jumped slightly, since the voice came from right beside my ear. I felt seeping desperation creeping up on me, as I realized there was no possible way I could get away from them since one, they had me with my back against the wall, and two, there were at least five of them (I'd come to the conclusion there was five, anyways, from the amount of noise coming from the group), and three... I couldn't even chance running away because I couldn't see where I was going. For all I knew, I could be heading out into the middle of traffic, and by the time I realized that, it might be too late.

I swallowed harshly, pushing my back against the wall as I tried to think of something - anything - I could do. I was probably on my own here (after all, this _is _Los Angeles), and the thought scared me straight. If they wanted to, they could throw a blanket over my head (Which would be stupid of them since I couldn't see, anyway) and pull me into their car and drive away, and the odds were that everyone would just keep walking.

I hoped they couldn't see my fear, because I knew that wouldn't work in my defense. I heard one of them give a chuckle, and I stiffened as I felt a hand run through my hair, tugging it slightly. I quickly moved my own hand up to smack his away, and I heard a gasp of disapproval run through the group. Obviously, they weren't happy, and I wondered how much longer I could stall them.

"You never answered, what's your name?" The voice was harder, and I could tell he was close as he stepped towards me, and I winced at his breath on my neck. I frowned, my hands reaching out as I shoved him away.

"Go away." I spoke harshly, but I could hear the laugh in the other boys' tones and knew they weren't going to back off. The fear inside of me was rising steadily - what could I do, when I couldn't even see them or where I was, or know if there was anyone that would be able to hear my screams? Before I had the chance to find out, however, I heard a new voice.

"Leave her alone." The boy growled, and I wanted to groan in frustration. One boy, no matter how good-hearted or strong he was, couldn't do _that_ much against a group of five boys. Maybe he expected me to help him fight or something - too bad he didn't know that I couldn't, even if I wanted to.

"Or what, you're gonna make us?" I recognized the voice - the one who'd spoken first - and I realized he must be the leader of the group. I flinched, feeling sorry for the stranger who'd just made them angry.

No words answered the boy's taunt, except for a loud pop that broke the silence. I jumped, stumbling back, wondering what was happening. A noise at my side made me back up again, but something hit my foot, making me trip. With a surprised cry, my arms flailing wildly, I fell.

It seemed like forever, as I began to fall. I sucked in my breath, praying I wouldn't hit my head, or anything else of importance. My hands shot out behind me, feeling to see if there was anything else behind me that I should be worried about, when someone's hands grabbed my waist. With a jerk, I gripped onto the person's arms as I desperately tried to balance myself before I thanked him, whoever he was, for saving me.

My gratitude turned to horror, however, when I realized that it one of the boys from the group that had grabbed me. His arms were still firmly locked around my waist, and the sounds of scuffling stopped almost immediately, at the boy's harsh laugh.

"Nice catch, Darrin." The boy who I'd assumed was the leader spoke up again, although I could hear a sort of lisp in his speech, which meant that the stranger had found his mark. Footsteps advancing towards me caught my attention, and once again, there was a harsh pull to my hair, as I felt the leader's breath on my cheek.

"Idiot." He snapped at me, his hand still yanking my hair, and I bit my lip to hold back my cry of pain. I briefly wondered what had happened to the stranger who'd stood up for me, and with dread, I realized I hadn't heard him yet. I felt my heart jump into my throat at the thought that something had happened to him - it would be all my fault, too, because I was the one who was walking through Los Angeles at night, because I was the one who was in this situation in the first place.

"Now who's won?" The leader spoke up again, his tone filled with malice, and with a jolt of hope, I assumed he was talking to the stranger. Although this didn't help me much, it put my conscience at ease to know that at least he hadn't been hurt in his attempt at a heroic, but stupid, rescue.

"Just let her go." Yes, that was definitely him, his voice firm and determined. I steadied myself, moving my hand to try to loosen the boy's grip on me, but if anything, he only squeezed harder. I let out a groan as I realized it was getting harder to breathe, and this seemed to please the group of boys, considering I could hear low chuckles coming from them.

"What makes you think we'll do any such thing?" The leader spat, and I could hear the contempt in his voice. I knew, probably as well as the stranger did, that they weren't going to let me go at all.

"Because," The stranger replied, his tone casual. "There might be a reward if you do." I felt the grip on my waist loosen slightly as the boy holding me straightened, probably in surprise, and I heard several of the others suck in their breath.

"How big of a reward?" The one holding me spoke up, his tone sounding excited and like he'd already decided to give in, but was being cautious. I bit my lip as another jolt of pain rushed through my head. What in the world was wrong with my head, anyways? It was as if a fog had settled over, and the intense pain didn't help, either. I gingerly touched my head, wincing.

"It depends," The stranger's voice was still calm, but I could hear his underlying tone. He wouldn't play this game much longer. "On how quickly you'll release her." He finished, and I could hear the challenge in his tone now, but the group didn't seem to mind.

Quicker than I could comprehend, the arms at my waist loosened, and I was shoved roughly towards the stranger. At first, I thought I was going to actually fall this time, since no arms shot out to catch me immediately. I braced myself for the impact of my body hitting the ground, but it never came.

I'd realized that they'd shoved me, and I'd fallen right into the stranger's outstretched arms. With a jolt of relief, my hands reached out to find something to steady myself, and I found my hands pulling at the stranger's shirt as I straightened, giving him a small smile - or at least I hoped he was where I thought he was, since he hadn't spoken yet.

The group of boys was laughing, their leader the loudest of all, and my grip on the stranger's shirt tightened in fear. He seemed to sense my panic, because a moment later I felt his arm move around my shoulders and give a comforting squeeze.

"Here." I could feel his free arm move as he, probably, tossed them their money, and more laughs came from the boys as the sound of paper russling could be heard. And then... there was silence, from the boys, from the stranger, and I couldn't describe it, but I could _feel_ their anger. I felt my heart jump into my throat as I wondered what they were upset about.

"What's the meaning of this? It's not what we agreed upon." I recognized the leader's voice as he spoke, his tone slow and thick with anger. I briefly wondered what the stranger had given them.

"I did reward you - I haven't killed you, after all, which is what I'd like to do," The stranger replied, his voice sounding evenly fierce, "Just go, and be glad you're all still alright, because I swear if you ever bother her again, you won't be so lucky." By his tone, I knew he wasn't bluffing, and I was glad that he was on my side, because I don't think he would be a good opponent to have.

"What do you say, boys?" The leader's voice rang out, and although he sounded possibly slightly more humbled, obviously the stranger's words hadn't affected him as they'd affected me.

I tried to slow my breathing, but to no avail, since I couldn't stop my heart from racing. The stranger's grip on me tightened protectively, as a loud cheer from the group rose up.

"Run." He whispered into my ear, before he spun around, his hand now moving to grip my own hand, and took off.


	2. Two

**A/N: **_Hey! I'm back again, with a new chapter ;) It's long, again, and I hope you will all enjoy it! Also sorry for the crappy ending, it was getting long so I just stopped. haha XD enjoy, & review anyways? :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own CR. Just my little insane plot ;)_

* * *

We continued running, the stranger's hand still holding my own tightly, and for that I was grateful. Without him, I would've stumbled many times, doubtlessly, or accidentally run into something, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my arm, because I surely couldn't have gotten away on my own. Hence, I kept a death grip on him, glad that since he was leading, I didn't have to worry about tripping over or running into something. It would've been the worse for me then.

The shouts from the group of boys slowly faded away, and I briefly wondered if we really - a blind girl and a... stranger - were able to outrun them. It seemed unlikely, but at the same time I couldn't hear their taunts or yells from behind us. And slowly, cautiously, I allowed myself to believe we'd lost them.

The stranger seemed to think the same as me, for a moment later his running slowed, and his grip on my hand loosened slightly. I could hear his winded breathing, and my own, mixed with his as we gasped for breath, and finally, his hand dropped from mine. I was glad to be able to stop - glad to be able to breath, glad that now, my aching legs could rest.

"Thank you." I managed to say, in between breaths, to the stranger. I was so grateful, so happy, so _ecstatic_ that he'd decided to help me, words couldn't have expressed how I was feeling, so I settled with a simple thank you. The stranger didn't seem to mind, though - he was probably too busy trying to catch his breath, and probably watch for the group of boys. Or, maybe he thought I was - too bad he didn't know that I couldn't.

"I think we've lost them." He spoke up, and I nodded, deciding that since he thought we were safe, I probably should too. However, it still seemed hard to believe that two people had managed to 'loose' a group of five boys. Could it really have been that easy? "Just in case though, we probably should keep moving." He continued again, and I agreed quickly, because I felt the same way.

We started up the road again, at a much slower pace, and without the stranger's firm, guiding grip, I noticed how much harder it was to simply walk without either hitting something, or tripping, or placing my feet wrong. It was frustrating - to be going so slow, unable to go any faster without falling, and hardly getting anywhere. If we continued at this pace, they would surely catch up to us.

"Come on, we have to hurry." The stranger seemed to think the same, and I knew he was slowly growing impatient at my clumsy slowness. "Do you _want_ them to find us?" He snapped, sounding more worried than angry at me, but despite that fact, I still couldn't help my growing anger - towards myself.

I let out a groan of frustration as I tried to pick up my pace and felt my leg smack into something - probably a chair, I would guess, from the way it hit me. I couldn't go any faster, not without hurting myself. With a sudden burst of anger, I balled my palm into a fist and slammed it down onto my free hand at my own weakness.

"Whoa," The stranger's voice was now even more worried, and I could feel him as he stepped closer, oblivious to my frustration. "What's wrong?" He asked, and I felt his hand reach out and grab my own, probably only to prevent me from hitting myself again. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I wanted this horrible blurriness in my head to go away.

I snatched my wrist away from him and sat down on the street, in the middle of the Los Angeles sidewalk, and, curling my legs up so I could bury my head, I began to cry. Anyone who saw me must think I was insane and a hopeless cause - surely, even the stranger had walked away when he'd discovered I was crazy.

I didn't get what was going on - why was I even in Los Angeles? Last time I remember... no, I couldn't even remember what city, or worse, state that I had been in before today. That wasn't normal, to not remember anything but _walking_... and this headache was worse. What normal person felt as if they had their own personal thunder storm going on in their head?

A hand on my arm made me jump, and I scooted backwards, away from the touch, my first thought being that the group of boys had found me. A second later, a voice proved me wrong.

"What's wrong?" The stranger's voice was gentle, yet concerned, as I realized that it was his hand I'd felt. He hadn't abandoned me after my momentary breakdown - I smiled at the thought that he'd stayed, despite how it must have looked when I lost all my dignity and plopped down on the middle of a random Los Angeles sidewalk. I'd doubt many people did that very often.

"I... I can't go any faster," I told him quietly, and I could imagine him raising his eyebrows as he stared at me, probably confused out of his mind at my strange words. "Even if I want to, which I do, I just can't." I broke off with a sob, pushing my sleeve across my face to wipe away my tears before I continued. "And this stupid headache..." I moaned in frustration, my hand pressing on my temples, as I tried to calm down.

The stranger was quiet, his hand resting unconsciously on mine, and it was only the fact that I could feel him that I knew he hadn't left. I don't know why he stayed, when he could see what a mess I was.

"I have a question," The stranger spoke up again, as if I hadn't even spoken. He sounded confused, and as if he was thinking. "Where did you get all those cuts?" I stiffened - what was he talking about? I didn't know... or at least, I hadn't felt any pain, so I hadn't thought...

"What?" I asked, dumbfounded, before the stranger's hand moved, his finger running along a section of my arm gently.

"The cuts. Where did you get them?" He repeated patiently.

"I don't know," I admitted, "I didn't even know I had any." I continued, which was the truth, because before this I hadn't even noticed it. I could have been beaten senseless, and, I'll admit that I was too preoccupied with my head and sight that I probably wouldn't have even noticed. When the stranger spoke next, however, he sounded slightly angry.

"Seriously? You're going to lie, after everything?" His tone was harsh, and I instinctively pulled away, shaking my head in desperation.

"I don't know, I swear." I could hear the pleading note in my own tone, and I could only hoped that he decided to believe me. I'd heard him when he was facing the group of boys - if he could defeat them, he certainly could do the same to me, much easier. I flinched when he reached out and pulled me back towards him, his grip firm.

With a sigh, he stood, and I felt him tug on my arm, pulling me into a standing position. I caught my balance quickly, wishing he'd release my wrist, because I couldn't stand to be so close to him.

"How can you not notice? It looks like you got into a major cat fight, and lost." His voice was calmer now, I noticed with a bit of relief, and I took a deep breath before I answered him. I wondered how he would react when I told him - would he pull away and leave me, like I'd been worried he would earlier? Or would he understand?

"Because," I sucked in my breath, trying to calm my racing heart, "I'm blind."

I heard him suck in a deep breath, and I felt him stiffen in shock. I pulled away, while he was distracted, and he didn't try to stop me. _I knew it_. He was going to leave, he was going to avoid me because I was 'weird'... I stepped back, away from him, and I noticed he didn't come after me. With a half-choked sob, I turned and ran.

Later on, I'd be the first to admit that was probably the stupidest thing I could have done, because without my sight, I was groping around in the darkness, with no way to know if I was headed in the right, or wrong, direction. I had acted on the spur of the moment, and it was something I would never do again.

My feet slipped on the slick sidewalk, but I steadied myself before pushing through the crowd of people, just wanting to get away from him, from the group of boys, from everything. I wanted to leave this cursed city, and find a place to lay my head down.

"No!" I heard his panicked voice a moment later, but I ignored him as I fled, my heart pounding in my head and my breath coming in short gasps. I tripped as the sidewalk dropped suddenly, and I fought to keep my balance.

"Stop!" He cried, and now I could hear the sound of his feet pounding against the sidewalk, and the loud blare of a horn right beside my ear, accompanied by the sound of screeching tires. In a dizzied rush, my head spinning, I fell, my hands instantly moving to protect my head.

I hit the ground with a thud, pain shooting through my body as I realized what had happened, and how I'd almost gotten killed. Tears flowing down my cheeks, I placed my hands on the ground, attempting to push myself back up and get out of the road, as quickly as possible.

Before I had the chance to move, however, I felt strong hands grasping my waist, pulling me up and back, back to the sidewalk and safety. I was trembling, sobbing, shaking, dizzy, and terrified, and I could tell from the stranger's breathing that he was just as winded as I was.

His hands loosened around me as he set me down gently, his hand on mine as I began to cry, just from the sheer terror of how stupid I had been.

"What the heck were you thinking?" He yelled furiously at me, and I could _feel _his rage as if it was my own, it was so strong. Shuddering, my breath still coming in gasps, I shook my head, horrified by what had almost happened. I could've been _killed_. "Or were you even thinking at all?" He continued, his voice shaking, and I realized that most of his anger was coming from the fact that he'd been terrified by what I'd done.

"I'm sorry." I choked out, my heart in my throat as I thought about how stupid I had been. I could feel some of his tension melt away, and I ached to know that I'd put us both at risk today - twice. "I'm so sorry."

His arms wrapped around me, and with a small surprise, I realized he was hugging me. I relaxed into his gentle embrace, still sobbing, and his hand moved up and down my back as he tried to comfort me. Somehow, it managed to work, because my breath was no longer coming in huge gasps and my heart wasn't racing insanely.

"Can we just go?" I asked, pulling back from him as I stood, my legs feeling like Jello, and I wobbled. His hand caught hold of my arm to steady me, and I gave him a small smile gratefully.

"Of course," He replied, his grip on my arm firm as he began to walk, and I followed closely, afraid that if he let go of me, I might make some other stupid decision and end up causing us both more trouble, so instead I followed him meekly, my head still reeling from what had happened.

"Where are you staying?" He asked, and I frowned, because I didn't even know how I'd ended up here, much less where I was supposed to be staying, or live, or anything of the sort. I shrugged, feeling hopeless and stupid, and he sighed.

"I don't know," I answered honestly, and he didn't reply right away. "I don't even know how I got here, in Los Angeles, I mean." And then I heard him release the breath I didn't know he'd been holding.

"You'll have to come with me, then," He reasoned, and although the thought of going anywhere with a stranger should've scared me, it did the opposite. Comforted, I was thankful that he was willing to help me. "However," He continued, and I stiffened, wondering what he was going to say. "I think we should get you to a doctor before we do anything else. You at least need to get those cuts checked out. And maybe he'll be able to help you with your headache." He offered, and I nodded, a smile on my face.

"I know this is a stupid question," He laughed, and the sound was like music to my ears. "But what's your name?"


	3. Three

**A/N: **_Hey guys ;) Here's another new chapter for you guys, hopefully you'll like it. It was getting kinda boring for me all the sudden, so I added some "drama" (hehe) towards the end... I hope it turned out okay ;) Let me know what you think & maybe drop me a review before you leave? ;) ENJOY!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock ;)_

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The question was so odd that it took me a moment to answer. After everything that had happened today, I'd forgotten that neither I nor the stranger knew each other's names. With a smile, I answered him.

"Mitchie." What a shock - I could remember my own name, but not how I came to end up in Los Angeles. At the irony, I chuckled slightly, although it wasn't exactly that funny. It was one of those moments where you laugh, just so that you don't cry. "What's yours?" I asked instead, and the stranger hesitated, although for what reason I didn't know.

"Shane." He replied after a moment, although there was a hint of regret in his voice, but I didn't know why he sounded so forlorn, so stressed, so... anxious. I nodded, pretending not to notice his mixed feelings, and instead took a small step forwards. He took my hint before he grabbed my hand, probably afraid that I was going to bolt again, with a worse result than last time, or he didn't trust me to walk on my own. Part of me wanted to tell him I was fine, but the reasonable, soft side of me clung to his hand as if it was a matter of life or death.

"Taxi!" I heard him call out, with a short whistle, before he tugged my hand gently, signalling for me to move forwards. He paused a moment later, whispering "duck" into my ear, and immediately, I lowered my head, stepping up and into the taxi. I've never been happier to have someone to lean on. Without him... I blocked the thought out of my head, since I could already picture what would've happened if he hadn't been there.

It was hilarious how I could wind up surrounded by a group of boys, and have another boy stand up for me, save my life twice in a day, and feel completely safe with him, and totally helpless without him, and then learn his name. I wanted to laugh at how unusual this situation was, and how much I was leaning on him for support when I'd only just met him all of three hours ago.

I listened quietly to Shane's voice as he gave the taxi driver to drive to the nearest hospital, and I heard the driver clear his throat meaningfully a moment later.

"I know it's none of my business," He began, and I stiffened, wondering what he would say. Maybe he was really a decoy - maybe he was working for that group of boys. I brushed off the thought almost as soon as it came to me, telling myself I was simply being paranoid. Maybe, if I could see, I would be more comfortable. "But, if I might ask, how did the lady come upon those scratches?" He sounded simply curious, and possibly slightly worried, and I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I'd told Shane earlier, when I felt Shane's hand squeeze mine in a silent message to stay quiet.

"Oh, we were all on vacation in the woods when a bear found our camp. My friend here was trying to defend us..." I heard him groan in mock pain, as if remembering the horrible moment, and I frowned. What in the world was he saying? That was the most ridiculous, absurd story I'd ever heard. The taxi driver would be a fool to believe us. "It was horrible, so horrible..." Shane broke off mid-sentence, as if it was too painful for him to even finish the story. I'll admit, he was okay at acting, although not so good at making up stories.

Of course, the extremity of the story made me question just _how_ bad my cuts were, for Shane to be telling such an insane story, especially since the cab driver didn't sound like he was faking it one bit when he let out a gasp. It was just another moment that I wished fervently I could see, because it would just be so much easier.

It seemed that 'easy' wasn't a fan of me, though, as I've noticed.

"If you don't mind..." Shane's voice came from beside me, and I could hear the impatience in his tone as he hinted at the taxi driver that he was in a hurry to get to the doctor's, and the taxi driver quickly muttered a hurried apology before I felt the car begin to pull out into traffic.

A moment later, I felt Shane's hand move over my own and squeeze gently - reassuringly - and not surprisingly, I actually did feel comforted. Something about having Shane near me, holding onto me, made me feel safe - maybe it was the fact that he'd saved my life twice today. Or maybe it was that I had no one else to rely on - there was no one else I could trust, not even myself.

"Sorry for being nosy, sir," I flinched when I heard the taxi driver's voice, momentarily forgetting I wasn't alone with my thoughts. He'd startled me, that was all, and I soon relaxed against the seat, although my hand still gripped Shane's tightly. I was afraid to let go - I'll be the first to admit that fact, because I'm not ashamed. I learned today what happened when I tried to rely on myself, and now that I knew how the outcome could be, I wouldn't be rash again.

"It's no problem," Shane's tone was soft and kind, as I felt a flicker of a smile at the kindness he was trying to show to the taxi driver. I wasn't sure why, but somehow I knew this wasn't exactly usual for him.

I frowned at this thought - why could I remember certain things, but not truly important things - like why I was blind, why I was in Los Angeles, and so many other countless questions. Nothing made sense, and I had a bad feeling that things wouldn't for quite some time. Or, at least not until I could answer those two main questions.

In some ways, I was scared of going to the hospital - I hated waiting rooms, I hated having people see me like this - and yet at the same time, somewhat relieved. Maybe the doctor could provide some answers - answers I needed desperately. The taxi driver, however, spoke up again, breaking me out of my thoughts and back to the present.

"I was just, of course, wondering what Mr. Torres would say." His tone was low, suddenly, and I felt myself, and Shane, tense. "Since you say she was on vacation with you, and those cuts are rather fresh, but Miss Torres hasn't been on any 'vacation' recently." He knew we were lying - I felt my heart jump into my throat as I considered jumping from the taxi, and almost immediately decided against it.

Before I could tell Shane to get out of the cab, I felt a hand clasp onto my wrist, and I was pulled forwards roughly. Staggering, shocked, my head reeling, I could hear Shane shouting behind me, and yelling coming from the two, but I couldn't understand what they were saying because my head was pounding.

I found myself listening, however, when something cold was placed against my skin.

"I'll expect payment, of course, in return for the release of Miss Torres, and for keeping your little secret." I could tell he was smiling, his tone sounding as if he'd trapped us. _Secret? What secret? _After a moment, my brain focused on the more important part of his sentence: he'd called me 'Miss Torres'... I tried to remember if that was my last name, but it did sound slightly familiar, but at the moment, I couldn't seem to think straight.

"Listen, I'll give you what you want - just let her go, please." Shane spoke up from behind me, his voice firm, and I groaned inwardly. Not this, again. I hated this - how did I manage to wind up in these horrible situations once again? I felt the taxi driver's grip tighten on my wrist, which only made me pull back harder.

"Sit still!" The taxi driver complained, but I ignored him as I continued to struggle against him, until Shane's hand moved to rest on my arm.

"Stop moving, Mitchie. I'll pay him and we can go, okay?" His tone was gentle, soothing, although I knew he was secretly nervous but trying not to show it. Maybe the taxi driver would see it as a weakness, and instead of taking the money and letting us go, he'd decide we'd make better hostages. I begrudgingly did as I was told, and I could hear Shane fumbling behind me, and the sound of something being wrinkled. "Let her go and I'll give you the money." His words were directed towards the taxi driver, but I couldn't resist interrupting.

"Don't you dare give him a dime!" I yelled, once again resuming my attempts to pull away from him. I couldn't let Shane do this - how come twice today, it had come down to him giving money to save me, just some pathetic blind girl he'd had the misfortune of running into. He shouldn't be doing this - I wasn't worth it.

Before Shane could respond, however, all three of us froze at the sound of someone banging on the glass. I heard Shane gasp softly, and the taxi driver's grip on my wrist loosened slightly. I took advantage of his distraction by pulling away, and although he released me, I still felt the cold metal object cut across my skin as I finally escaped from his grip. Instead of feeling Shane's hand pulling me from the cab, however, I felt his hand take my and squeeze it tightly, as he whispered at me not to move.

"Get out of the car!" I flinched at the shout, and I felt Shane's hand grip mine tighter, and I could literally _feel _the fear in him, and instantly, my own sense of panic kicked in. He'd remained rather calm while negotiating my release earlier, and with the taxi driver, but now, I could tell that he was terrified. "I said to get out of the car!" The voice came again, this time closer, and sounding much more dangerous. "If you think I'm playing around..." A moment later, the sound of a gun shot rang out, and I jumped, suddenly realizing exactly _why_ Shane was so afraid.

"We're going." Shane's voice trembled as he pulled on my hand, motioning for me to slide across the back seat with him. I obeyed hesitantly, my heart in my throat. "Whoa!" Shane's body jerked to a stop, his voice sounding panicked. "Watch where you point that thing - we're getting out, aren't we?" I tightened my grip on his hand - I wished he wouldn't decide to argue with someone who was armed with a gun. I hoped he had enough common sense to know to follow their orders, quietly.

"Shut up!" The gunman's voice was nervous, which only would make him more dangerous, and I could feel myself shaking as I wondered what was going to happen. Oh, this was _not_ a very good day. "Just get out of the car. I'll shoot - I swear I will!" Shane tugged on my hand again, and I pushed myself forwards, until finally, I felt the solid ground under my feet, and bolted up, so fast I felt Shane stumble as he tried to steady himself.

The moment he balanced, he shoved me behind him, and slowly edged backwards, his hand firmly on mine. I took careful steps backwards, knowing that now was not the time to stumble and fall, or make any rash movements, and Shane was equally careful.

The sound of sirens in the distance could be heard, and I felt Shane flinch beside me. Briefly, I wondered why. When I heard loud footsteps coming towards us, however, and someone's angry shout, and I realized what was going on.

"Did you call the cops?" He was close, threateningly close, and I swallowed, my heart racing dangerously fast. I could feel Shane still, using his body to shield me, and I clung to him as I tried to control my tears. Please, why was this all happening to us? "If you called the cops on us..."

"I didn't!" Shane replied, his tone begging, and my heart jumped into my throat. If Shane was practically _begging_, then the situation had to be bad. "Please, just let us go." His voice lowered, and as he finished his sentence, I felt him take a small step backwards. I quickly followed suit.

There was a grunt from the man, and suddenly, another gunshot rang out, and the sound of struggling could be heard. Both Shane and I jumped, and I realized thankfully - after a moment - that neither myself nor Shane had been shot.

"Keep backing up, slowly," Shane suddenly whispered in my ear, "There's nothing behind us for at least a few feet, so don't worry about tripping over anything." I silently thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and slowly began to make my way backwards, Shane following me closely. I could still hear shouts coming from both the gunman and an unknown voice, and the many onlookers, but I only focused on getting away from the whole situation.

Suddenly, the scuffling noises stopped, and I froze, wondering if that was a good thing, or meant something bad had happened. I could only hope it meant that whoever was fighting with the gunman had won.

"It's okay, Mitchie. Every thing's going to be okay." Shane whispered, as if he could read my thoughts, and I figured that this meant there was _some_ hope that things might turn out right. Of course, I wondered if he'd spoken more to reassure me, or to try to convince himself.

I stiffened when I heard footsteps approaching, but when Shane didn't tense or back away, I relaxed slightly. A voice spoke, and I jumped, before I realized that it wasn't the gunman, but someone new.

"Thank you, son." The voice did sound rather thankful, I noted, and I released Shane's hand and stepped back when I felt the man place his hand on Shane's shoulder. "We'll take care of him, don't you worry. He's going to prision, of course, for attempted robbery, and trying to shoot civilians."

"Thank you." Shane's voice held relief, and I felt myself release the breath I hadn't know I'd been holding.

It was finally over - for now.


	4. Four

**A/N: **_Another chapter already... haha XD This is a pretty long one, too, with over 3,300+ words :) I hope you'll all enjoy it, and maybe leave a review? I'd like to say thank you to everyone who's already reviewed, and to all your questions... they shall be answered soon ;) Pretty soon, at least :) Anyways, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock... or do I? (insertevilmadlaughterhere)_

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**I **was terrified to take another step into the unknown, with everything that had happened today. Even if Shane had been at my side for the rest of the day, he couldn't guarantee that we wouldn't run into any more trouble, and I was not in any condition to go through anything else. I was extremely grateful, then, when the police officer offered to escort us to the hospital. It seemed Shane felt the same way, because he didn't hesitate to maneuver me towards the car.

Once I was in the car, I turned and buried my head into Shane's shoulder, trying to ignore the rushing emotions pushing through me. Everything was so overwhelming - everything we'd been through today was pressing down on me. I couldn't believe Shane hadn't left me - or had even attempted to help me in the first place, when it was obvious I was the cause for all these problems that had happened.

And yet he was still here, his hand now resting on my back as he whispered to me that it was over, it would be okay. I didn't get why he'd stayed, or why he was trying to make me feel better, when he hardly knew me at all. Then again, I could wonder the same thing about myself - why did I trust him so much, when I barely had known him for five hours?

And, of course, my thoughts wandered back to the taxi driver. He'd called me 'Miss Torres' and asked what 'Mr. Torres' would think... yet how would he know my name, or... my father's? Or maybe 'Mr. Torres' was my brother or something... but as hard as I tried, I couldn't recall having a brother, so he must've been referring to my father - that was, if my last name even was Torres.

I groaned. Everything was so confusing, and it seemed that nothing was going to make sense. Too many things had happened, and all I wanted to do was, like I've mentioned before, crash down onto a soft matress and sleep, and worry about everything tomorrow.

Shane must have sensed my frustration, because suddenly he was breaking the haunting silence and talking to me.

"Is your last name Torres then?" His tone was soft, gentle, as if he wasn't sure how I would respond. I hesitated - _was_ it? I didn't know, and I simply shrugged my shoulders, unsure of whether to say yes or no, because I honestly didn't know the answer. Oh, this was all so messed up. What person doesn't know their last name? I was about to burst into tears when Shane spoke again.

"It doesn't matter, okay? We'll find out, I promise." Once again, I was reminded of just how amazing this stranger was, to be so kind and thoughtful and to actually _care_ about me... it was almost too much for me to ask for. And yet here he was, comforting me, and telling me that he would help me. I wondered if this all was a dream - a nightmare, and yet a fairytale at the same time, and if so, when I would wake up and return to the real world.

Shane's hand never left my back, and eventually, my breathing leveled and I managed to fall into a restless sleep.

**xXxXx**

"Mitchie, wake up, we're here." I groaned in response, briefly wondering why someone was shaking me gently and muttering at me to get up. The voice sounded slightly familiar... With another muttered complain, I managed to pry open my eyes... and then it hit me again. The darkness, never ending, surrounding me. My whole world was black, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

I felt myself trembling at the thought of how helpless I was, trapped inside my own body, and unable to do a thing about it. Just the thought sickened me, and I resisted the urge to cry in frustration and partly, fear. I hated being so... _disabled. _

"We're here." The voice said again, and as my head gradually cleared, I realized it was Shane speaking. Still somewhat confused and overwhelmed by all the rushing emotions, I sat up, realizing I had been leaning against him, and took a deep breath. He must mean that we'd arrived at the hospital, since last I remembered, Shane had mentioned that I needed to at least 'get checked out', as he'd nicely put it.

"Doctors?" I mumbled tiredly, just to be sure, and I heard Shane reply with a 'yes' before he gave my hand a gentle tug, telling me to slide across the back seat and exit the car. I carefully made my way out of the car, glad when my feet finally dangled out and reached solid ground, and I heard Shane offer the driver - whomever it was - a quick 'thank you' before he lead me away from the car.

"There's stairs," He warned, and I noticed how his hand gripped my own a little tighter. "We'll go slow, though." He finished, and I nodded in response, my own steps already faltering slightly. With his slow, helpful responses, and the way he guided me through it, I managed to get up the steps, and only stumble once. And once again, I found myself angry at the fact that I would apparently be helpless to do _anything_, even step up a few stairs, without someone's help. Unwittingly, I found myself reliving the moment earlier when I'd accidentally run into the middle of traffic...

"Mitchie!" Shane's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I thankfully returned to Planet Earth, my hand gripping Shane's tightly as I realized how nervous I was to step into the doctor's office - hospital (or whatever it was). "Relax, Mitchie, every thing's going to be fine, okay?" I frowned as I wondered how he knew I was nervous, and yet I hadn't even spoken a word of my discomfort.

"How did you know?" I asked with a small laugh, voicing my thoughts, and I felt Shane gently give my hand a small squeeze. I noticed, though, that he didn't return my anxious laugh, and there was no hint of humor in his tone when he replied, which made me question just how well he thought this 'visit' would go. He obviously, being able to _see_ and all, knew much more than I did, and this made me more uncomfortable as I wondered just how bad the news would be.

"I can feel how tense you are, even from over here." He replied, "It won't be that bad..." He trailed off, though, and his tone revealed his uncertainty. This only made me want to turn around and just avoid the doctor's office completely. However, with his hand on my own, firmly but gently hanging onto me, I didn't really have a choice.

I heard the sound of the automatic doors opening as Shane led me through, into what I'm not guessing is a hospital, and not a doctor's office (although I could be wrong). My heart pounding in my chest, I felt Shane stop beside me and turn around to whisper in my ear for me to sit down. I obeyed, my hands now moving to grip both of the armrests.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm just going to grab some papers and then I'm coming right back here and we can fill them out." Shane reassured me, and I could hear his footsteps as he walked away. I couldn't help the panic that rose in my throat as unwilling thoughts entered my mind - of him leaving, abandoning me in this strange place. I forced the horrific thoughts out of my mind, hoping desperately that he wouldn't decide to leave, and instead focused on listening for his returning footsteps. There was so much commotion, though, that I could hardly tell who was who.

I jumped in shock as I felt something brush up against me briefly, and then heard an easy laugh, and realized that Shane had returned, much to my relief.

"It's just me," Shane spoke softly, although I'd already realized it was him, and offered him a small smile. "Ready to fill out some insanely long paperwork?" He asked, and I grimaced as I imagined the countless questions I didn't have the answer to. "Okay, let's start with something easy... we already know your name is Mitchie, and since that taxi driver seemed pretty sure of your last name, we'll conclude it's Torres, if that's okay with you?" I nodded, and I could hear the scribble of his pen on paper as he quickly wrote down my name.

"Next one is your birthday." He spoke again, and once again by some mysterious way, I knew the answer.

"August 20th, 1992." I replied easily, and there was a moment's hesitation - probably from surprise - before he wrote that down, too. He didn't ask how I knew that though, since he probably already knew I didn't know... if that last sentence made _any_ sense at all.

"We'll skip the address, since you already said you don't know. How about I just put my apartment address on there for now, if that's okay with you?" I nodded - at least, if the hospital had his address, he couldn't just decide to abandon me, after all. I smiled at the thought of having someone there for me in this surprisingly scary world. At least I knew he would be there - well, until I figured out what in the world was going on, that is.

"Do you know if you're allergic to anything?" He asked, and I shook my head in response, trying to think of something, anything, that would help me answer these questions, but my brain refused to work. Maybe, if I could get rid of this horrible pain in my head, then I'd be able to think clearly...

"You know what?" Shane asked suddenly, and I frowned at his tone. "I think I'll worry about filling this out lately, I just would like to get you to see a doctor. I mean, I can get a room, I'm Shane G-" He cut himself off so quickly I almost didn't realize he'd stopped talking. I couldn't help frowning at how he'd just stopped mid-sentence so suddenly. Before I could ask him why, I once again could hear his footsteps retreating, and I sat back in my seat with a sigh.

The minutes ticked by, feeling like hours, as my mind kept turning, so many different thoughts swirling in my head. I hated being so confused and feeling stupid and not knowing anything, about myself or anything else. Why? Why couldn't I remember? The possibilites were driving me insane - and the fact that I didn't know if any of them were true or not.

I groaned as I leaned back into the chair, my hand moving up to touch my sore head, and my thoughts returned to Shane as I wondered where he was, and if he was going to be back anytime soon. He'd been gone for at least ten minutes, at the least, and I was beginning to wonder if maybe he'd re-thought helping me, and had decided to walk away.

"Get up, Mitchie." His voice surprised me, and it was a moment before I did as he'd said and got to my feet, my expression uncertain, since I had no clue where he was, only that he was close to me. I felt a sense of relief when he reached out and took my hand, and I was once again able to know he was close to me. "I got you a room, your own, too." The smile in his tone was infectious, and despite my confusion, I manged to grin too, as he began to lead me towards wherever my room was located.

I could hear others' voices, but I focused on Shane's calm, collected tone as he described to me where we were going in hushed tones. I smiled inwardly at how thoughtful he was being, although I was too nervous to hear much of what he was saying.

"Right in here, Miss Torres, Mr. Gr-" The nurse began, but Shane cut her off so loudly that it had my ears ringing.

"Thank you." Although his words were kind, his tone was rushed, and I knew that he, once again, was trying to prevent her from saying his last name, just as he'd cut himself off earlier. I heard the nurse hesitate before continuing, and I didn't blame her.

"The doctor will be with you in a moment." She said, before the sound of a door closing behind us startled me. Shane muttered 'It's fine' quickly, though, before telling me to sit down ontop of the bed. I heard Shane's comforting words, and felt his hand on my back, but all I could make sense of was the panic in my chest, making me tremble and shake.

"Everything will be fine, Mitchie. Maybe they'll be able to help." Shane soothed gently, but I wasn't the least bit comforted. I didn't know _why _I was so afraid of doctors, only that I was deathly scared of them, and that was enough to send me into panic mode. Maybe it was knowing how often it was they ended up giving bad news to their patients... or maybe it was something else that I couldn't remember.

I couldn't help but stiffen as I heard the door creaking open a few minutes later, and I immediately snapped my eyes shut, for some reason terrified of him seeing them, even though I still had the sunglasses on, by some mircale.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Collins," The doctor's voice was friendly, but my natural instinct had kicked in and caused me to clench my jaw and keep my eyes closed. I felt a hand brush against mine, but I knew almost instantly that it wasn't Shane, and refused to move. I don't know why I'd frozen like this, but I was terrified of being in the same room with the doctor, and having him so close to me wasn't helping. I felt a gentle nudge in my side, and realized Shane had poked me gently, but I couldn't respond.

"Hi, I'm Shane." Shane apperantly had decided to pick up on my slack, "And this is Mitchie," He introduced me, before continuing on. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you in private for a moment." He finished. I wanted to laugh dryly - I already knew what he wanted to 'discuss' with the doctor, and if he was worried about offending me, well then... I really didn't care if he called me insane or mental, or whatever else he would like. It was probably all true, anyways.

"Of course." Dr. Collin replied, and I felt Shane's hand on my arm for a moment, squeezing it gently.

"We'll be right back, Mitchie." He told me, although I already knew they would be back - it was more a matter of _when _then _if_. I heard both of their footsteps heading towards the door, which was firmly closed behind them the moment they'd left the room.

Part of me wanted to run while they were out of the room, but the other part of me kept flashing back to earlier, and kept me rooted to the spot. I was afraid to try to leave on my own, since I was _blind_. I tried to calm myself, therefore, by standing up and slowly making my way across the room, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other. After a moment, my hand found the wall, and I followed it until my fingers found what I supposed was a window.

I stopped, my hands running along the edges of it as I stared out, trying to ignore the blackness and imagine what it would look like from outside the window. Was there trees, or simply more massive buildings, like the one I was in? Or maybe there was a small neighborhood, and some children playing a game a few streets away. As badly as I wanted to, I would never know the answer to that simple question. Life could be so unfair.

Would I ever be able to see again? The question was stupid, I realized, the moment that I thought it. How could I even dare to ask myself such a thing? I was only torturing myself with possibilites that would never come true, and causing myself more pain in the long run.

My hands unconciously gripped the ledge of the window tighter, until I could barely feel my fingertips, as I tried to block out my unwanted thoughts. I didn't want to think about my blindness, since there was nothing I could do to change it. I didn't want to think about the fact I'd never be able to get around on my own (Well, eventually, maybe I would be, but it would take years), because it made me want to give up.

I bit my lip, my hands still clutching the window sill, and a bout of grief struck me as I realized I'd _never_ be able to know what was happening outside of the window. As simple as it might seem to someone else, it felt like I was missing a part of myself. There was always going to be a piece of me missing.

The sound of the door opening drew me from my thoughts, and I heard Shane's footsteps falter as soon as he'd entered the room.

"Mitchie?" His voice was nervous and questioning, but I didn't turn my head towards the sound of his voice. "What are you doing?" He swallowed so loudly I could hear him, and I frowned at the anxious note in his tone before turning towards him, my eyebrows furrowed together.

"Could you come and sit, please, Miss... Torres." Dr. Collins asked, hesitating before speaking my 'name', and I still couldn't decipher the concerned tone he used, although I was willing to comply.

I flinched slightly as Shane's hand found mine, although only out of surprise, before I allowed Shane to lead me back over towards the bed. I didn't know why they both had been speaking so strangely, but I was too tired and nervous to worry about it for long.

I sat down, my legs swinging over the edge, and I resisted the urge not to lean away when I felt Dr. Collins move closer to me. Shane's hand squeezed mine, and so I stayed in place.

"Now, Miss Torres, let's see about getting you checked out."


	5. Five

**A/N: **_Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, but I decided to update because... I got to meet Demi! It was about two weeks ago but it's still amazing :) Haha, it was the BEST day ever :D She is so beautiful in person, and so sweet :) Ahh, it was AMAZING! lol. It was kind of rushed because she had to start warming up soon, but she was still so nice & it was such an awesome moment :) I would just ramble on and on, because it seriously was just... amazing, but I won't bore you to death or annoy you by rambling, plus I know you all probably want to get to the next chapter ;) _

_So, with regards to this chapter, I know some parts might seem unrealistic- but know that I've been watching a TV show who's tag-line is basically "Imagine the impossible" "Nothing is impossible" kind of thing, so just remember that when reading this, haha ;) And now that I've said that, carry on! ;) Enjoy & maybe review on your way out? :D P.S Sorry for the crappy ending! _

_Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Camp Rock!_

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**T**he first thing Dr. Collins wanted was for me to take off my glasses. This was, of course, the one thing I _didn't_ want to do, probably more than anything else. I was afraid, although why, I wasn't sure.

Shane was on one side of me, coaxing me in an attempt to easy off the sunglasses, but I refused to let him as I shook my head fervently, my hands blocking the glasses. I didn't know why I was so afraid of taking off the glasses - maybe it was because I was afraid of what the doctor was going to say, or how they would react. I was terrified, and for no obvious reason. If I really thought hard about it, I hadn't even had these glasses until some kind stranger had shoved them into my hands.

"Come on, Mitchie, please?" Shane asked, again, and I hesitated. Was I being stupid - acting like some immature child? After deciding that I probably was, I slowly lowered my hands away from my face, probably much to Dr. Collin's relief. I paused before pulling off the glasses, although I almost immediately snapped my eyes shut. I heard Shane give a frustrated sigh from beside me, and Dr. Collins shifted his weight.

"Mitchie..." Shane's voice was getting impatient, although I knew beneath his frustration there was pity, but Dr. Collins cut him off.

"Miss Torres, if you don't mind, I do have a _lot_ of patients to go see. If we could just hurry things along a little, I'd appreciate it." His tone was calm and patient, and something told me that he'd had a lot of experience handling others like myself, and for some reason, this comforted me. With a small sigh, I forced my eyes open.

"I'm going to shine this light in your eyes now." Dr. Collins told me, and I briefly wondered if he'd mentioned that fact just to see if I would be able to see it, but my hopes quickly dulled as I realized nothing was happening - there was nothing to break up the blackness but more darkness. I groaned inwardly - why did I keep getting my hopes up only to have them crushed? "Nothing?" Dr. Collins asked softly, seemingly reading my thoughts, and I shook my head sadly. I felt Shane grip my hand tighter, and I was once again reminded of how grateful I was to him, for everything.

"That's okay, we'll figure everything out after we've run a few tests, Miss Torres." Dr. Collins reassured me, but at the mention of tests, I shrank back, not sure why the thought had added onto my fears.

"What kind of tests?" I asked timidly, wondering if maybe part of the reason I was afraid was because I couldn't physically see what was going on, and the thought of being so vulnerable was bothering me.

"Nothing major, don't worry." Dr. Collins replied surely, and I nodded, although he hadn't been very specific at all. "Lie back, please, Miss Torres?" He asked, and with the slightest hesitation, I unwillingly agreed and found my head resting on a pillow.

The next hour seemed to pass in a blur - mostly because I was busy trying to block out everything Dr. Collins was doing by focusing on my thoughts or Shane. I wondered if I had been born blind, or something had happened that had caused me to be this way. I wondered why I couldn't remember anything past walking in Los Angeles this morning, and if I was originally from the city, or somewhere else completely. I wondered if 'Mr. Torres' was referring to my father, or my brother, and then I wondered if I even had any brothers or sisters.

Countless of who Mr. Torres was, where was he now, and was he even related to me? If so, did he miss me, or know I was gone? At the thought, I let out a groan, imagining what it would be like if he didn't even care. Whatever Dr. Collins had been doing, he must have stopped immediately, because the pressure on my skin lifted almost instantaneously.

"Did that hurt?" He asked, his tone sounding a little worried, and I could feel Shane stiffen slightly beside me. I shook my head as soon as he'd uttered the words, letting him know that my moan hadn't been in response to whatever he'd been doing.

"No, no. Just thinking." I assured them, and I could feel Shane once again relax. A small smile on my face, I wondered why he'd even decided to save me in the first place, and if maybe fate had something to do with it. No, of course not, I was being silly... still, I couldn't understand why he'd stuck with me for this long when all I'd caused him was trouble.

But, nothing much in my life was making much sense at the moment, and somehow, I had the feeling that it all came down to the terrible ache in my head. It wasn't just a normal headache - even I knew that much.

"So, now, about your head... Shane says you're having pains?" Dr. Collins must be a mind reader, I decided, because there simply was no other solution for the fact that I had been thinking about my head when he'd asked me. Sensing he wasn't doing any tests but simply asking a question, I sat up slowly, nodding.

"Yes. I don't know how to describe it except that it isn't a regular headache, but more like this... _cloud_ of pain, if that makes any sense at all." I replied, "I keep getting dizzy a lot, and it's not getting any better." I finished, and there was a pause as Dr. Collins considered what I'd said. Next, he'd probably blurt out it was fine and would go away with a little rest, as most doctors usually said.

"Hmm..." He hesitated, before I heard him begin to shuffle around, probably looking for something. "I'm going to try something, Miss Torres. Once I do, I need you to tell me _everything_ that you experience, okay?" I nodded, my heart skipping slightly as I wondered what he was going to do, and if he actually thought it was going to work.

"If you could just lie back again..." I immediately did as he said, and I could feel myself trembling in anticipation. "I'm going to put these into your eyes - just some drops, that's all." He continued, and as I forced my eyes open, I felt him add a few drops into each eye. Almost instantly, I got a reaction.

My eyes _burned_. With a screech, I sat up, my hands covering my eyes as I willed the pain to stop, but it only increased. I knew I was crying now, but I didn't care - the pain was excruciating. I heard Shane shouting in the background, and Dr. Collins calmly speaking back to him, but I couldn't hear what they were saying, because I was lost in my own agony.

And suddenly, I froze, despite of the pain coursing through my eyes, and blinked. Breaking through the darkness, there were tiny spots of... _color?_ They were very faint, and they faded away almost as soon as they appeared, but it still caused me to marvel at this small fact. How had that happened? Faint spots had appeared, and the pain had stopped.

"What just happened?" I asked quietly, my heart still racing from the last few seconds, and I heard Shane's shouts break off mid-sentence, and Dr. Collins short reply.

"I had a bad feeling this was the case." He sighed, and I bit my lip nervously as I waited for him to speak, wondering what he was going to say. Did he actually know what was causing this - my headache, the sudden pain, and even my blindness? It seemed unlikely, and I didn't want to get my hopes up just for nothing. I heard him swallow, as if he was almost afraid to say what he was thinking, and I frowned - especially at his next words.

"Shane, may I talk to you privately for a second?" His tone suggested that whatever he had to say, he wasn't going to say in front of me, which only made me more nervous. If he knew what was wrong with me, why wouldn't he tell me? It just didn't make any sense, and it only made me panic more in the long run.

Shane, also, sounded unsure when he replied with a 'sure', and once again, I could hear their footsteps retreating as they left the room. My heart racing, as I wondered what was so top-secret that I, who was who needed to know, much more than Shane, couldn't even hear what he had to say.

With a frustrated sigh that was partly out of my own nervousness, I heard the door shut again, and knew they were both out of the room, while Dr. Collins told Shane, who was practically a stranger, something about myself, which he had almost refused to mention in front of me. This day just kept getting crazier and crazier. Why would he tell Shane what he thought was wrong with me, and not me?

Biting my lip, I tried to block out all the far-fetched possibilities that had begun to run through my mind. I didn't want to jump to some horrifying conclusion and then discover I'd gotten worked up over nothing, or vice versa.

I had a feeling, though, that whatever Dr. Collins was telling Shane, was going to make an major impact on my life.

**xXxXxXx**

I jumped, so lost in my own little terrible world that I'd almost forgotten Shane and Dr. Collins were just outside of my door - or rather, now they were back in the room. I frowned, sitting up straighter in confusion - I could literally _feel _the anger radiating from Shane as he stormed into the room. Pushing back a little farther into the pillow, if only to give myself a slight distance from Shane, I waited for one of the two to speak and explain why Shane was in such a rage.

No such explanation came, however, only a shock as Shane grabbed my hand, ignoring the way I flinched at his sudden touch, and gave it a firm tug, almost yanking me straight out of the bed.

"Get up." His tone told me he was finally loosing it - even though he'd managed to stay calm earlier when dealing with the boys and then the taxi driver, and then the random gun man, he was making no secret of the rage he was feeling. I shrank back, terrified of why Shane was so angry, and what he was doing, considering his mood. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go anywhere with him, when he was aggravated.

"Shane-" I tried, but he cut me off before I could even utter a single statement, his voice icy cold. He sounded _dangerous, _and it scared me to the core.

"Get up. We're leaving." I could hear him clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth together in a furious way that made my heart skip a beat, as I wondered if he was mad at me, or whatever Dr. Collins had told him. When I didn't move, he pulled me so hard, and so fast, that I nearly fell out of the bed and crashed into the ground. Dizzy, barely managing to catch myself, I sent a harsh glare in his general direction.

It was as if he was in such a wrathful state that he didn't even notice what he'd almost done, and almost instantly, I felt him pulling me along, while I stumbled after him, trying my best to keep up with him.

"Dr. Collins, thank you." Shane's voice held no animosity towards the doctor himself, although his voice was a little forced, so maybe Shane truly was mad at me. The thought shocked me, and I prayed that it wasn't true - I didn't know how I would manage on my own if Shane just decided to up and leave me - maybe he was sick of me. Maybe I'd done something to offend him... I didn't know, honestly. He'd seemed fine, maybe a little nervous, the rest of the time he'd been here, but now... I was terrified he was going to do something irrational, simply out of anger.

I was almost afraid to ask why he was so riled, seeing how blunt and taunt he was being, but at the same time I was terrified to leave the hospital, not knowing why he was angry, or what he was going to do once we actually left. His firm grip, however, pulling me along behind him as he stormed out of the hospital doors, left me with no choice but to follow him.

He hardly paused, even when we hit the stairs, and I almost toppled down them. Without hesitating, he quickly caught me and steadied me, although he only slowed his pace slightly. He didn't seem to care that I was struggling just to make my way down the few stairs, and he surely wasn't trying very hard to help me. It was as if he didn't want to even touch me.

"Shane-" I tried again, desperate to get his attention and, first, ask him to slow down and, second, ask him why he was so annoyed. His harsh words, though, put a quick end to anything I might've been ready to say.

"Mitchie, not now." There was no trace of warmth in his voice, only cold-hearted anger, and I unwillingly felt tears filling my eyes at his unnessacary harshness. I heard a short whistle, and then the screech of tires against the pavement, and felt Shane, once again, pulling me forwards. "Duck." He whispered, his tone suddenly somewhat softer, and I obeyed, although he barely allowed me time to lower my head before I was pulled into the car.

I wanted to ask why he was acting so angry and irrational, but I didn't dare. He'd already told me to wait until later - maybe until his inital anger wore off, or maybe... maybe meant until he managed to find a way to dump me somewhere. I was still frightened by the fact that he seemed to frustrated with me, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was regretting ever trying to help me in the first place.

The thought made me think about the fact that it might not be long until I was wandering down a random street alone, again, helpless and wishing there was someone to save me. It had happened earlier, and I didn't fancy re-living such a vulnerable moment.

With a start, I realized that my wish had already come true. Shane had jumped in just in time - although, if he'd come slightly earlier, I wouldn't have complained - and the thought of loosing him terrified me. Already after just this short time that I could remember, he was there, and I didn't know how I'd manage on my own, when I couldn't even remember my own address. Where would I go, what would I do, if he left?

I tried to ignore his angry demeanor, but the truth was that I was scared. I was afraid he was angry with me and was going to leave, and I already knew that I wasn't able to get along on my own. I needed Shane with me, at least until I found out why I was in L.A., why I was blind, and why everything was still so confusing and I couldn't remember anything.

I didn't realize that I had started crying until I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. Sniffing, I immediately wiped it away, hoping he hadn't noticed, but I felt him lean closer to me, and he spoke again, his tone now filled with confusion and concern, the anger and harshness faded away.

"What's wrong?" His sudden worried tone made me flinch - only moments ago, he'd hardly wanted to speak to me, and now he sounded as if he actually cared. I turned away from him, burying my face into my hands and hoping he would just leave me alone until I managed to calm down. Unfortunately, I felt him move and his hand touch my arm, hesitantly.

"Mitchie?" His tone was low, as if he was afraid to ask what was wrong, and I ignored his pleading tone. Sighing, he gave the driver a quick address, before returning his attention to me. I wished he wouldn't. He was being so thoughtless and harsh just moments ago, why had he seemed to have a sudden change of heart?

I flinched when he grabbed my hand in his own, because I didn't want him to touch me now. I didn't want to be near him - I didn't want to think about him, mostly for fear of the growing possibility he'd leave.

My head turned away from him, I tried to wipe away my tears with my free hand, thinking of how stupid it was that I was crying over the fact that Shane - who was still practically a stranger - was acting angry with me. Why was I so stupid?

"Mitchie." There was a sigh in his tone, as if he knew exactly why I was crying, and he knew it was partly his fault. "I'm sorry." He continued, and I knew by his tone that he was being honest, but still, that didn't explain his actions. I just wanted to try to gather my confused emotions and ignore all the mixed feelings I was getting - first Shane was acting as if he was terribly angry at me, and suddenly he was once again being caring and normal? Was there something wrong with him, or me?

I curled into the corner, hating everything about my life at this moment, while Shane gave a loud, depressed sigh from behind me, and I felt him lean forwards, into me. I wanted to push him away, to ask him what I'd done wrong, I wanted to scream at him for how he was acting. I did nothing except flinch and lean closer towards the car door in a rather lame attempt to get as far away from him as possible. It wasn't easy, since he refused to let me.

"Mitchie." This was the third time he'd said my name, and this time his tone implied he wasn't going to stop until I replied. Still shaking slightly, I turned my head towards the sound of his voice, my thoughts jumping to wonder what his face looked like, before I brushed the image aside and scowled at him.

"Will you please just leave me alone right now?" I asked, my tone harsher then necessary, and I heard him take a deep breath at the hurt in my voice. "I get it - you're angry at me, you'd rather leave and you're probably wondering why you ever even stopped to help me in the first place." I realized I was sobbing when my voice cracked halfway through my small rant, and before I could continue, I felt Shane pull me into a tight, much needed hug.

I broke down in his arms, all the stress from the day's past events pouring out, as I grabbed at Shane, my hand gripping his shirt and my head lowered into his shoulder. He didn't tell me to stop crying, or say anything at all, but simply held me in a way that told me maybe he hadn't been angry with me, in the first place, after all. That thought, of course, made me wonder exact what he'd been upset about, if that was the case.

"I'm not going to leave you, Mitchie." His tone was soft and apologetic - I knew he was thinking back to how harsh he'd been earlier, "Even I'm not that cruel." I frowned at his word choice - although I was too distracted to question him. "I couldn't do that - I wouldn't, you have to believe me." His tone sounded almost pleading, and I flinched at the intensity of his tone. He was practically begging me to believe him.

I released the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, and tried to calm my breathing. He'd just confirmed something that had terrified me beyond belief - at least now I knew he wouldn't leave.

He wasn't leaving me.

The thought somehow managed to overwhelm me, and before I knew it, I was crying once again - this time, though, it was tears of joy.

"But, if that's the case, why were you so angry earlier?" I couldn't resist asking, and I felt Shane tense almost immediately. There was a moment's pause before he responded, almost as if he was reluctant to speak.

"I'll tell you later, okay? I need to cool off for now - I can't even think about what they did to you."


	6. Six

**A/N:** _Hello again! Hopefully, this quick update will help make up for my evil last chapter. First, I'd like to thank you all for the amazing reviews you left, I really appreciate them! Secondly, I'd like to say sorry for leaving you with such an evil cliffy - honestly I didn't even think anything of it until I read your reviews, haha. Ans sorry again, because this chapter won't exactly answer that many questions... but soon ;) Also - this is random, but this story is kind of based after the song 'Whispers In The Dark' by Skillet, I highly recommend you listen to it :D_

_Also, this is kind of random, but I was thinking about re-writing this story and making it Shane's P.O.V. (later on) & then posting that on here as well, since with Mitchie being blind, we've missed some key points in here. What do you guys think? I'm still considering it :) Review & let me know! _

_Enjoy, & don't forget to review! ;)_

**Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Camp Rock :(**

* * *

_"I can't even think about what they did to you."_

Shane seemed to catch himself as he spoke the words, cutting himself off as he drew a deep breath. I froze as the sentence he'd spoken sunk in. _What they did to you? _With a choked cry, I raised my hands up to cover my face as I tried my best to block out all the horrible thoughts running through my mind.

If I could gather what Shane was saying, someone had done this to me - made me blind. Hardly able to think, I curled my palm into a fist and slammed it against the car's door angrily. How could anyone be that cruel? Didn't they know how hard this was - if I wasn't blind, I might have some chance at having a slightly normal life.

"Whoa, Mitchie, please, I'll tell you what Dr. Collins said when we get to my apartment." Ignoring his pleading tone which told me that he was nervous about my reaction to what he'd let slip, and probably knowing Shane, was worried I was going to hurt myself. He had good reason to worry though, because that was exactly what I wanted to do.

With a loud grunt, I slammed my fist into my leg, enjoying the burning sensation that immediately came upon conduct. I knew Shane hadn't been expecting that reaction from me, because he gave a shout of surprise before I felt him grab both my hands in his own, holding them tightly so I couldn't hit myself again. Try as I did, I couldn't pull away, and I gave up a few moments later with a sob.

So, from what I could gather of Shane's small sentence, I was blind because of something that someone else did. I was horrified - as scary as the possibility was, I had kind of hoped that I had just been born blind, since that would probably be so much easier to accept. To know that somehow, this had been forced upon me was overwhelming.

"Mitchie." Shane's soothing, still upset tone broke into my racing thoughts, as I tried to calm myself, and think reasonably, before I went into a full-blown panic mode. "Listen - we're here, at my apartment, I mean. Let's go inside so we can talk in private -" I was so worked up, I'd almost forgotten that there was someone else in the car with us, driving. "Okay? I'll tell you what Dr. Collins said." I nodded, my hands still in Shane's firm grip, and followed him as he slid out of the seat, holding my hand firmly.

He was walking much faster than usual, and I had to hurry to keep up with him, glad that he was still holding onto me, because I probably would've tripped and fallen again if he hadn't. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts - mostly, I was wondering what Dr. Collins had said to Shane, and if there was any way that - since the blindness was caused, and wasn't simply just something that had always been a part of me - maybe, it could be reversed. I didn't dare hope though, until I'd talked with Dr. Collins myself.

"There's more stairs." He warned briefly, although he didn't slow much, and I stumbled slightly as I tried to rush up, into the apartment. I didn't know why he was in such a hurry, but I was too preoccupied with my own problems to ask him.

There was the sound of a door being unlocked, and then a squeak as it was opened, and Shane pulled me forwards, dropping my hand as he shut the door firmly behind us. I stood still, waiting for him to tell me where to go, considering I didn't want to knock over, or trip over, something.

"Here, you can sit on the couch if you'd like -" Shane began, but I cut him off almost immediately. I'd waited long enough for his answer, and I wasn't going to let him delay in telling me anymore.

"No, I don't really want to sit right now, Shane, I'd really just like to know what's going on. What's so secretive that Dr. Collins couldn't even tell me to my face what was wrong with me?" I probably could've worded my sentence better, if I'd thought about it, but I was so stressed at the moment that I didn't care how harsh my words sounded. Shane, though, either didn't notice, or understood my stress.

"Please sit down, I have to go do something real fast, and then we'll talk, okay?" He sounded somewhat rushed, and I heard him take a step closer to me before taking my hand again and pulling me forwards gently. I followed, knowing that obviously he wasn't going to talk until he'd done... whatever it was he wanted to do, and so I didn't argue, but instead allowed him to lead me over to the plush couch.

"I will be right back in just a second." Shane told me, once again, and I nodded slightly to let him know I'd heard. He took a deep breath, before I could hear his footsteps running the other direction.

I should've been afraid, as I was before, but after Shane had made it clear to me that he didn't intend to leave me, somehow the fear of him abandoning me had lessened considerably. Maybe it was because I could hear the truth in his tone when he'd told me that he wasn't going to just leave me by myself, or that I had other things to worry about.

Everything was so quiet, it was hard to believe. Even Shane's footsteps had faded away into the distance, which made me question just how big this "apartment" was, and I was left in complete, utter silence. The silence only gave my mind more of a chance to panic, though, as I tried to block out the terrible thoughts that were torturing me. Some_one_, or maybe something, had caused me to become blind...

With a groan, I shoved my head into my hands, tugging at my long hair as I tried to remember, tried to force myself to remember what had happened._ Nothing_. I was pathetic - as I've already pointed out many times - I ran my fingers over my lips, realizing with a jolt that I didn't even know what _I _looked like. Did I have blonde hair, or brown? What color were my eyes?

I let out a groan of frustration as I tried to resist the urge to pick up the nearest item and throw it, telling myself that I shouldn't go around breaking Shane's things, or he might change his mind about helping me.

My thoughts were distracted, though, when I heard footsteps again. My head shot up, as I waited impatiently for Shane to speak up and tell me what Dr. Collins had said, when I realized that it wasn't Shane, after all. Shane's footsteps were much louder, and spaced out much differently than this person's.

And just as fast as they'd started, they stopped, and for a second, I wondered if the whole thing had just been in my head. A moment later though, I realized I hadn't just imagined it, after all.

"Who the heck are you?" I couldn't help the scream that escaped from my lips as I jumped up, stumbling away from the voice, my hands held out behind me as I tried to avoid crashing into anything. I didn't far, though, before I felt a hand grab hold of my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

Maybe, if I hadn't almost been kidnapped, almost been run over, or had a gun held up to my head by a crazy taxi driver, maybe I wouldn't have reacted so badly. However, I couldn't stop myself from curling my palm into a fist and swinging in the direction of where I thought the stranger was.

I knew I'd hit my target when there was a grunt of pain, although the grip on my arm only tightened. The stranger stumbled back, dragging me with them, and I let out another cry, hoping that Shane was at least somewhere within hearing distance of me. The stranger's grip loosened slightly, although why I wasn't certain, but I didn't hesitate to take advantage of the distraction. With a sharp tug, I jerked away, managing to free my wrist from his grasp.

My arms flailing out for what felt like the thousandth time, as I attempted to stop myself from falling, reaching out for anything that might help break my fall. Unfortunately, I found nothing, and since the stranger didn't attempt to catch me, I landed on the ground with a thud, my head snapping back as I hit the floor.

I groaned, feeling the pain that racketed through my body, as I attempted to roll onto my stomach, ignoring the excessive dizziness I was feeling, and tried to push myself to my feet. I didn't get very far.

I was shoved back onto the ground, a foot placed squarely in the middle of my back, while the stranger shouted something about calling the police, and made sure to pinned me against the ground despite my efforts to get up.

A shout, which didn't come from the stranger, caught my attention above the other noise. _Shane_. Finally, he must have heard the screaming and come to my rescue - because I know that last sentence didn't sound dramatic at all.

"What are you doing?" He yelled, and as the stranger broke off with his shouts, I could hear Shane's footsteps rushing towards us, and suddenly, the pressure on my back was released. Shaking, my body trembling, I tried to push myself up. I didn't have to, though, because before I had the chance to try to get up, Shane's hands were on my arms, pulling me up, while I gripped onto him desperately, wondering where the stranger had gone.

"Who is she?" The stranger spoke up once again, and I realized with a shock how close he was to us - probably close enough to reach out and grab me again, if he wanted to. Swallowing nervously, I pushed myself closer to Shane, my hand clinging to his arm. Shane seemed to be ignoring the stranger, though, as I felt his hand run over my head.

"Are you okay?" He asked instead, his tone sounding worried, and I nodded to reassure him that I was fine. At the moment, I only wanted to find out who this stranger was, and why he'd mentioned 'calling the police'. "And you - what's wrong with you?" Shane's sentence was directed towards the stranger, who I heard take a small step back at the anger in Shane's voice.

"Who is she?" He repeated, and I heard Shane give a frustrated sigh. "Look, you can't blame me - what would you have done if you'd walked out and some strange girl was sitting in the living room? You would've reacted much worse than I did."

"Her name is Mitchie." Shane seemed slightly distracted, although I wasn't sure why, as he responded to the stranger's earlier question. "And I brought her here, if you're wondering how she got inside."

"Well, in that case, it's nice to meet you, Mitchie. I'm Nate." The stranger's tone had changed completely, and I offered a smile in the direction of his voice, although I still couldn't help but feel wary after how he'd tackled me to the ground earlier. There was a moment's pause before I felt Shane shift uncomfortably from beside me, and clear his throat rather loudly.

"She's... blind." He choked on the last word, which made me snap my eyes shut, my mind travelling back to Shane's earlier words - "_t__hey did this to you_." I heard a slight gasp from Nate, and I flinched at the way he'd reacted, even though I knew it was only logical. What did I expect from people - that they simply smile and nod when they heard words like that? I ducked my head, trying to ignore how uncomfortable I felt at the moment.

"I'm sorry." Nate's soft tone broke through my thoughts, although it wasn't his fault at all. _He_ wasn't the one who'd done this to me. Trying to hold back my tears at that thought, I stepped away from Shane slightly and tried my best to smile through the pain I was feeling. I jumped in surprise when I felt someone - who was obviously not Shane - touch my arm, hesitantly, and almost immediately, Nate drew back, almost as if he was scared of how I'd reacted.

It was silly, really - it bothered me that Nate had gasped at the fact I was blind, and it bothered him that I was afraid of him. If I hadn't been preoccupied with... _other_things, maybe I would've taken a moment to reassure him I wasn't angry at him, at least not anymore.

"Shane." I spoke softly, hoping Nate wasn't within hearing distance. "Can we please talk now?" I asked, although in truth, I was somewhat afraid of hearing what he was going to say, since it only made this whole situation more... realistic for myself. In some ways, I still was wishing this was all just a bad dream that I would soon wake up from. Somehow, knowing what Dr. Collins had said, only made everything seem more undeniable, and less like a dream. Swallowing harshly, I could feel Shane tense, before he took my hand, leading me forwards.

"First, I think Shane and I need to have our own talk." Nate's tone held an emotion I couldn't understand, but his tone implied that they were going to be having that talk right at this moment. I felt Shane's grip loosen slightly on my hand, and I heard him sigh at Nate's words, as if he had just been thinking the same thing.

"Just two minutes." He snapped at Nate, before direction his attention to me. "Stay right here?" He asked, and I nodded, although I had no intentions of doing so. There was something strange about the way that both Shane and Nate were acting, and I figured I might as well figure out what it was.

Shane let go of my hand, stepping away from me, and I resisted the urge to follow him until they both were a little farther away. I didn't want to get caught before I'd even taken a step forwards, after all, which was going to be rather hard to do, considering I had absolutely no idea where they were headed, or how Shane's house was set up. The last thing I wanted was to trip and fall flat on my face, again, considering by that time, Shane and Nate would already know I was trying to eavesdrop.

Once their footsteps had faded slightly, I made my way towards the sound of their hushed voices, my arms held out in front of me as I tried to avoid any furniture, breakables, or anything else that could possibly be in my way. My hand hit a wall, and I found myself travelling along side, following Shane and Nate's voices in the distance, although I was still too far away to be able to make out what they were saying.

I slowed, tilting my head as I listened to their hushed tones, and took a deep breath, wondering if I was far away enough that they couldn't see me. Closing my eyes and focusing just on their voices, I waited.

"What were you thinking?" Nate asked, sounding somewhat worked up, and I could hear as Shane sighed.

"Listen, Nate, what did you expect me to do? She was about to get kidnapped, or worse!" Shane's tone rose slightly towards the end, and I flinched at the terrible memories that his words had brought up. I didn't want to think back to earlier that day, and how utterly helpless I had not only felt, but been, and I could only imagine what had happened if Shane hadn't shown up. I tried my best to block out the unwanted thoughts, and focused instead on what Shane and Nate were saying. Nate gave an aggravated sigh before responding.

"What if it had been a trick, Shane? You know the media's crazy and would do pracitically anything to get dirt on us." At this I frowned, wondering what in the world they were talking about.

"It's not like that... you should've been there, and you would've done the exact same thing I had." Shane shot back, his tone sounding somewhat angry at what Nate had just said. I didn't know exactly what they meant, but I knew that one thing was certain: the situation I had been in earlier had been real.

"Does she know..." Nate trailed off, but it was obvious that Shane knew what he meant, because he replied almost instantly.

"No, of course not. She's blind, Nate, and of course I didn't mention that." His words sounded forced, as if he was annoyed at what Nate had suggested, "I'm not careless, you know, and it's kind of nice to have someone treat me normal, like I'm just another kid, and not _the_ Shane Gray."

At his words, I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Suddenly, the way he'd cut off the nurse before she'd said his last name, the way he'd sounded so confident when he told me he could get a hospital room without waiting, and the way he'd been so hurried most of the day all fell together and made sense. At least I'd solved part of the puzzle - I now knew why Shane was so careful not to give me any personal information about himself.

And suddenly, I frowned, because I realized that despite that fact I couldn't remember anything from before today, I knew who Shane Gray was. I could picture his face, and - Nate, who I now realized was a part of the pop band known as Connect 3, along with the third oldest brother, Jason. My head reeled from this newly processed information, and the fact that I had no idea how I'd known all of this.

Nothing was making much sense. So far, I'd discovered that this memory loss appeared to be _selective_, my last name was supposedly Torres, and that this kind stranger who'd rescued me and then helped me out in such a major way was actually the world-famous Shane Gray. When would my little, messed up world start to connect the dots and make sense?

I groaned, probably a little louder than I should have, because both Nate and Shane immediately stopped talking. I heard their footsteps coming towards me, but I could only stare blankly, shocked from this newly processed information.

"Mitchie?" Shane sounded slightly surprised that I was standing here, and I knew he was probably wondering if I'd overheard him. I clenched my jaw, hesitating a moment before replying.

"I'm blind, not deaf, Shane." I replied softly, and I heard a sigh escape from Shane, and I could feel as Nate tensed, even from where I was standing. "Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered, not bothering to hide the slight hurt in my voice, and waited as Shane stood there, motionless, before answering me.

"I'm sorry. It's just... for once, I had the chance to be normal. I wasn't going to pass that up. Every day, I deal with paparazzi and screaming fans and all the other crap the media throws at me. I was afraid if I told you, then you would treat me differently - like everyone else does." I sighed - with what Shane had said, I couldn't be mad, since I did know how cruel and ruthless the press was, and in a way, I couldn't blame him. If I had been in his position, I might have reacted rather similarly.

"Plus, it's kind of scary, to have hundreds of girls screaming in your face, trying to grab onto you, and such. Fans can be crazy - we never really know what do expect." Nate added, and I nodded in response. Sometimes, Connect 3 fans did take it a bit too far.

"So, wait, you know who I am then?" Shane sounded confused, as if the thought had just hit him, and I couldn't help but frown in response as I nodded.

"I don't know why. Nothing's making much sense, though. Everything is so frustrating. I can remember who you guys are, randomly, but I can't even remember my own address." Groaning, I moved my hands up, running them through my hair. When would things begin to start making sense?

"Let's go sit down, okay?" Shane's tone was gentle, and I felt him take my hand, leading me back towards the couch, presumably. I sat when he told me, and leaned back, taking a moment to try to gather my overwhelming thoughts together. Everything was spinning - such as why I could remember Connect 3, but nothing before today, or why someone had purposely caused me to become blind. The thought sickened me - that anyone could be so cruel, so heartless... how could they even do such a thing?

"I'll tell you what Dr. Collins said, but please... don't panic until I've finished. If it's what Dr. Collins thinks, then it might be reversible."


	7. Seven

**A/N: **_I don't really like this chapter. Sorry, I just feel that it lacks... something. I'm not quite sure what, I just know it's not my favorite chapter. Anyways, hopefully you guys will find it more enjoyable, and just know that I actually finished a future chapter last night (at two in the morning, may I add) and it's filled with drama and action & I really like that one :) haha, this story still has quite some time to go ;) Sorry for the short chapter, by the way, I was just bored with this chapter and couldn't think of anything of value to write - Anyways, if you could please leave me a review telling me what you thought about this story/chapter, I'd really appreciate it - reviews make me write/update much faster! ;)_

**Disclaimer: Again... I don't own Camp Rock, nor it's sequel. Yup, I'm a failure :(**

* * *

I almost didn't dare to hope, despite Shane's words of encouragement, because I didn't want to get my hopes up high, only to have them crash and burn when Dr. Collins told me that it wasn't possible. Taking a deep breath, I waited for Shane to continue.

"From what I understand, yes, someone did cause you to become blind, and he also said that your headache -" I touched my head gingerly at the thought, noting that the pain had hardly lessened at all, "could be a response to a drug he suspects they've given you." I groaned. Shane had only just began to explain what was going on, and already, I was terrified beyond belief of what he'd already said, and what else he was going to say. "He also thinks that's the reason for your memory loss, and he suggested that if - _when_ - it wears off, then maybe you'll also get some of your memories back."

So, at least, there was some hope that I'd be able to remember, most of all, why I was even in Los Angeles today, and maybe where I lived, or another important thing I'd forgotten.

"So, at least that explains your headaches. And as to your reaction to those eye drops he added - well, as you already know, he suspects you weren't born blind, but that either something happened, or someone caused you to become blind." Every word out of his mouth sounded forced - as if he wanted to just stop talking completely. I didn't blame him - I wanted so badly to raise my hands up, cover my ears, and pretend that none of this was happening.

There was a long pause, as if Shane had decided he'd said enough, but I could tell there was something more than what he was telling me.

"Shane," I sighed, leaning forwards, my hand reaching out and, after a moment, finding his, "What is it?" He didn't reply immediately, and when he did, his voice was thick with unreadable emotion.

"Dr. Collins said something else. He has a hutch that - from the way you reacted to the drops he gave you..." Shane trailed off again, and I heard him give a small, discreet groan. Biting my lip, I waited for him to continue, afraid of what he was going to say next, since obviously, it was bothering him. "He thinks he knows who - or should I say, which _company_ has the right tools to do... you know." I heard him take a deep breath, as if he was afraid to keep speaking, and I felt a slow panic creeping up over me. "The company is run by a Mr. Torres."

**xXxXx**

I felt my heart stop as Shane's words sunk in. _Mr. Torres. _I closed my eyes, trying to fight the increasing urge to slam my fists into something, once again, and I flinched, pulling away as Shane tried to take my hand. I didn't want him to touch me, I didn't want to be comforted... I wanted the truth. From what I'd learned today, Mr. Torres was my father...

I sucked in a breath, a hand shooting up to cover my mouth as I considered throwing up at the very thought of what Shane - and, indirectly, Dr. Collins - was implying. If what we'd thought about Mr. Torres was true, and he owned the company that was apparently responsible for my blindness... with a groan, I pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my head.

"Mitchie... Dr. Collins didn't say that for sure, only that Mr. Torres' company was the only one with the ability to do something like this. We don't know anything for sure - Dr. Collins said he'd like to try a few more tests, later, after you've rested. We can go back tomorrow, if you want."

I ignored him, knowing he was only rambling because he was just as nervous, hurt, and angry as I was.

"So that's why you were mad earlier." I whispered, the harsh way he'd been acting suddenly making sense. "You weren't angry at me, but at my father." I choked on the last word, my heart jumping into my throat as I imagined what kind of man my father was - obviously, he wasn't a good dad at all, if Dr. Collins was correct. What kind of father would do such a thing to his own daughter?

"Of course I wasn't mad at you - how could I be? None of this is your fault." Shane's tone was gentle, filled with sadness, and another emotion I didn't want to decipher at the moment. How could anyone - especially a father - be so horrible?

Part of me was desperate to deny this new information - to not believe anything until it was proven true - but after everything that had happened today, it wasn't as hard to believe as I'd like to be. I wished that I could say confidently that Dr. Collins was wrong, but I couldn't. In fact, I knew he was most likely right. I don't know why I was so sure that Dr. Collins was speaking the truth, but I was confident that he was.

I didn't know why I was so quick to pass the blame off on this Mr. Torres (whom we're assuming is even my father), but all I knew was that my headache was increasing and all I wanted to do was puke, then pass out.

"I need to lie down, please." I asked quietly, although Shane must've heard me, because hardly a moment later, I heard him jump up off the couch, and the next second he was pulling me up, gently, his arm around my waist as he half-carried me. If it had been on different terms, I might've been embarrassed by the fact that I was so weak I couldn't even support myself, and had to have Shane Gray help me even stand - it was pathetic.

"I'll take you to the guest room," Shane offered, and I nodded slightly, stumbling as I tried to keep up with him. I heard him give a soft sigh, before I was hoisted up into his arms bridal-style. Too dizzy to protest, I simply wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shirt, trying to pull my emotions in check.

There was the low creak of what I figured was a bed as Shane set me down and then sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, and I could hear his worried breathing, although he remained silent for a moment.

"Mitchie, nothing's set in stone as of now..." Shane began, but I only clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth as I raised my hand up, signalling for him to stop speaking.

"Not now. Don't try to make me feel better or shield me from the truth, which is that you and Dr. Collins already know pretty much what's happened, and who made it happen. I don't want to be shielded, and I don't want you to lie to me and give me a false comfort. I don't want soft words and candy apples, Shane, I just want the cold hard truth, no matter how... terrible it is." I swallowed harshly, feeling my body tremble as I exhaled shakily.

Shane didn't respond using many words - instead, he simply reached out and grabbed my hand softly in his own, squeezing it gently. I couldn't help the tears that managed to escape from my eyes at his kind gesture, although simple it had touched me deeply. How a complete stranger had managed to be so kind and caring, while my own father had _caused_ my blindness, made absolutely no sense and simply reminded me that I lived in a warped reality.

"I think maybe you should get so some sleep, Mitchie." Shane's voice broke into my thoughts, after moments of silence, and I paused, nodding slightly in response, his words reminding me of how exhausted the day's events had caused me to become.

"I think, that maybe you're right." I smiled, allowing myself a small laugh, and I heard Shane chuckle in response. A sudden yawn forcing it's way out of my mouth, I sighed softly, my grip tightening on Shane's hand. "Don't leave me?" I whispered, not sure that Shane had even heard me until he responded, just as quietly.

"Never."

**xXxXx**

_Something was wrong. I could tell, by the thickness of the air, and the dark gray skies that loomed threateningly overhead, and the way my heart was beating way too fast, and my breathing unsteady. Confused, I stumbled forwards, my eyes firmly fixed on the small shed that lay a few feet away, nestled among a grove of tall, dense trees. Frowning, I glanced around, wondering why my heart was racing and I felt as if I'd been running forever. _

_And then it hit me, that I could see my surroundings. Confused, filled with joy and yet apprehension, I remained tense, unsure of what was going to happen next. I was afraid - afraid of the fact that I could see, that every part of me was aching and tired out, that I had no clue as to where I was. Hesitantly, I decided to make my way towards the shed, my eyes darting towards the trees every few seconds. _

_I reached the shed and, cautiously, reached out and grabbed hold of the door knob, half afraid to turn it, for fear of what was on the other side. I should have listened to my gut feeling, should have walked away from the shed, but instead I turned the knob, and instantly frowned. _

_I had stepped inside of a small, brightly lit lab. Test tubes with multi-colored liquids surrounded me on either sides, with small bottles lying everywhere, and various tools that I didn't recognize. Somewhat hesitant, I continued forwards cautiously, my eyes flickering from the bright lights to the small white table that was standing in the middle of the room. _

_"It's just not right yet." The voice surprised me, and I jumped, spinning around. My eyes wide, I stepped back, knocking various tubes off of the crowded table behind me, hearing them shatter on the floor, but the man in the white lab coat didn't seem to hear them break, or notice me in the least bit. He had his back turned to me, leaning over a small vile of liquid, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated heavily on his work. He picked up another jar, adding a few more drops to the liquid in front of him, watching it carefully. "Ah, finally, it's almost ready." There was a sort of greediness in his tone, which was something I couldn't understand, as I stood watching him, wondering what had captivated his attention so readily._

_I jumped as he clapped, a smile lighting up his face, and as he turned, he finally seemed to notice me. His smile widened, and I hesitated, something still feeling unsure about the situation. _

_"Ahh, Michaela!" He grinned, and I frowned, although the name sounded somewhat foreign to my ears, there was a familiar feeling to the name he'd just called me. Maybe 'Mitchie' was just short for Michaela. I shoved the thought away, though, as he stepped forwards, his arms outstretched towards me. "The potion is ready - you shall be my first victim." Although there was a sort of teasing note to his tone, I could hear the underlying meaning to his words, and instantly, I shook my head, stepping backwards, my hand reaching behind me as I felt for the door, not wanting to take my eyes off of him. _

_Before I could get very far, however, I let out a scream as two pairs of arms caught hold of me from behind, and I saw the man once again grin. _

_"Mitchie, you know that's no way to behave. You know as well as I do that you will do this." He moved closer to me, and my eyes rested on the small vile that he now held in his hands, advancing towards me, smiling somewhat maniacally. I cried out, wishing that something would stop what I knew was about to happen next - where was Shane now? Wildly, my eyes darted around the small building, although he was no where to be found - I was alone with the man - whom I could safely assume must be Mr. Torres - and the other two people holding me firmly. _

_He came to a stop in front of me, examining the panicked look in my eyes, before he smiled again, giving a nod. In an instant, a hand found it's way through my hair, yanking my head back into a painful position, and I felt Mr. Torres move his hand up, the small vile still coming closer and closer to my face. Kicking and screaming, I tried my best to escape from this fateful scenario, but all in vain. I cried out as I felt Mr. Torres drop some of his mixture into my eyes..._

"Mitchie!" I heard my name from far away, sounding distant and musical to my ears, but I couldn't break free of the terrible images flashing through my head. Jerking subconsciously as I tried to shove the person who was shaking my shoulders away from me, I kicked out. "Oof!"

I screamed as my eyes flashed open, once again met by the terrible engulfing darkness, and I shot up, noting my racing heart and winded breathing, before I managed to focus, hearing someone else moan, sounding as if they were in pain.

"Shane?" I asked, still shaking from what I now realized was simply a nightmare - although it had undeniably felt very real. After a moment of silence, where I could hear only our nervous breathing, he replied.

"Yes?" The word sounded as if he'd spoken through clenched teeth, and after another moment, I felt and heard the bed sink down, signalling he was now beside me.

"Are you okay? Why were you on the floor?" I asked, frowning as I spoke. Shane chuckled softly under his breath, although there was only a dry humor in his tone.

"You were having a nightmare, and when I tried to wake you up, you kicked me in the stomach and knocked the wind right out of me." He replied, his breathing now sounding more even. I couldn't help the gasp that escaped from myself at his words.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to hurt you. It was just all so real..." I trailed off, trying to block the pictures that were flashing through my mind, and the consuming thought that it was my 'father' who'd inflicted all this pain upon me.

"Oh Mitchie." There was a sigh in Shane's voice, a note of sorrow, as though he could already guess what my nightmare had been about, and I sucked in a breath, wondering exactly what it had been like - to be some test rat for my father, to be treated in such a way... "It's okay, Mitchie, you're safe now." He spoke softly as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a much needed hug, and I cried into his shoulder, the images from the nightmare still all too fresh in my mind.

"You're safe now." He repeated, his grip on me tightening, and I leaned against him, sobbing as I came to face the truth that it had been my father who'd inflicted this blindness upon me.

"You're safe now." And yet, somehow, I didn't quite believe him.


	8. Eight

**A/N: **_Hello again! Thanks to your great reviews I've decided to update much sooner than I usually would. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this chapter - sorry if it's really short and gets a little dramatic - I was writing it while I was also on twitter, and there was TONS of drama going on there - Demi deleting her twitter, not being able to perform due to health reasons, and rumors about what had happened flying left and right. It was complete insanity, so at least I have an excuse as to why I might have made Mitchie over-react slightly later on ;) haha XD Anyway, enjoy & please review! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Camp Rock (sadly) :( However, I do now own an official wardrobe piece from CR2, that Demi actually wore! haha XD _

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"Mitchie..." Slowly, I opened my eyes as I heard my name spoken, fighting back a yawn as I blinked, the smell of food filling the air. My mouth watering and my stomach growling - I'd failed to notice yesterday just how hungry I was - I sat up, my hands reaching out to feel for the edge of the bed. "Breakfast is ready." I flinched slightly as I heard Shane's voice from right beside me, and a moment later felt his hand on my arm, gently pulling me out of the bed.

"Yum." I replied, for a second pushing away all of yesterday's drama and focusing instead on the simple pleasure at the moment - breakfast.

"I hope you don't mind eating bacon and eggs, since that's all I can pretty much cook," Shane laughed, and I offered him a smile, feeling a glow of appreciation that he'd probably gotten up early just to have food ready for when she'd woken up.

"Of course not, it sounds delicious." I replied softly, following Shane has he continued to lead me through the apartment, occasionally swerving so as to help me avoid crashing into anything. It was awkward, and slow, making our way through Shane's apartment, and I was glad when he finally told me to sit down, and I sank into the cushioned chair gratefully.

"Here." I felt him shove a fork into my hand, and heard him set the plate down, and somewhat cautiously I lowered my fork, waiting until I heard it tap against the plate, and smiling inwardly to myself about the fact that eating hadn't been as hard as I'd imagined. Shane seemed somewhat surprised, too, because there was a moment's hesitation before he pulled out his own chair and sat down.

Slowly, bite after mouth-watering bite, I felt the hunger inside my stomach gradually diminish, and finally, I set my fork down, turning my head in the direction where I assumed Shane was, and thanked him.

A moment later, I could hear the clatter of plates as Shane cleared the table, and I sat, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the fact that I couldn't help him, despite the fact that I wanted to.

I jumped when I heard a second pair of footsteps approaching, immediately tensing, before I heard Shane give a friendly greeting to the other person, whom I now realized was Nate.

"Good morning, Mitchie." Nate's voice came from right in front of me, and I still winced slightly, although I wasn't truly afraid of him, but simply still somewhat in shock from everything that had happened yesterday. "Shane, you made breakfast? Since when in the world have you ever -"

"Shut up, Nate." Shane's voice was low, with a sort of growl in his tone, and I couldn't help the smile that slipped onto my face at the friendly arguing between the two.

"Ahh, they do look a little burnt, though..." Nate's teasing voice replied.

"They tasted perfect." I interrupted, allowing myself to relax as the two brothers continued their bantering, with Nate teasing Shane, while Shane tried his best to defend himself, although he failed pretty miserably. I smiled, listening to them as they went back and forth, and leaned back against the chair.

Someone's phone went off, and the bantering stopped, while I could hear both boys rushing off to find their phones. I rolled my eyes at their childish actions - however, some good humorous conversations were good after all the drama that yesterday had contained.

The ringing continued, and I frowned, wondering why neither Shane or Nate had answered their phone yet, and suddenly, I tensed as I felt something vibrate against my leg. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, because already, instantly, knew that it wasn't either Shane or Nate's phone that was ringing. And yet, I didn't remember having a phone on me, either.

My hand shaking, I reached down, my hand travelling along my jeans until I found the pocket I was looking for, and, cautiously I swallowed as my hand enclosed around what I could only assume was a phone. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the phone from my pocket and snapped it open, holding it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I hardly even dared to speak into the phone, but the word had escaped from my mouth before I could stop it. The line was filled with static, and for a second, I thought that the person on the other end of the line wasn't going to speak.

"Hello, daughter." I froze, my breath catching in my throat and my head pounding, feeling as though my body was on fire. I opened my mouth to respond - to cry, to scream, to ask why - but nothing came out except a choked noise. The line was filled with static, though, and although the man - my _father_ - was still talking, I could only make out part of his sentences. "... I've sent someone... going to come and get you... have a _lovely_ day, darling..." and the the phone went dead.

Shocked, terrified, and too frozen to even move, I didn't even flinch when the phone dropped from my hands, shattering on the floor below me. Shaking, tears forcing their way from my eyes, I pulled my knees up, wrapping my arms around them as I replayed his voice over and over again, the words taunting and powerful.

"Mitchie?" I heard Nate stop in his tracks and his surprised tone, probably seeing the broken phone and the tears running down my cheeks, but I didn't bother to turn around or try to respond. I could barely get any air into my lungs, feeling lightheaded and paralyzed, unable to move as I stared blankly ahead. "Mitchie?" Nate tried again, and when I once again failed to respond, I heard him shout Shane's name, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

I heard running footsteps which I knew belonged to Shane, and his breathless tone as he snapped "What?" before they both were silent. I heard Shane take cautious steps forwards, muttering my name hesitantly, before he placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Mitchie? Mitchie, what's wrong?" He shook me slightly, although I couldn't find the strength to respond to him, nor react to his fervently shaking me. "Mitchie!" He sounded panicked and winded as he moved to stand in front of me, his hand on my chin as he snapped his fingers, his voice now rising to a shout. "Mitchie, please relax, you're going into shock." He continued, although by now I could barely hear him, my thoughts were so rushed and panicked.

"C'mon, Mitchie, _breathe_!" He yelled, and suddenly, he'd slapped me in the face, _hard._Jolted out of my thoughts, my cheek stinging, I jumped up, gasping as I sucked in air greedily, my head spinning. I heard Shane release a shaky breath a moment later, and Nate give a sigh of relief. "Mitchie, what happened?" Shane asked, although I still couldn't form the words to tell him about the phone call. Shaking my head, my hand on my throat, I backed away from the two of them, still gasping for air.

I was overreacting, I knew, but I couldn't help be feel terrified, escpecially because what I'd learned from Dr. Collins and Shane about my father. I jerked away as I felt Shane touch my arm.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled, slapping Shane's hand and stepping away, tears still flowing down my cheeks as I tried to level my breathing. I heard Nate ask if they should call a doctor, but I was too preoccupied with my own fears to hear Shane's response. Still sobbing, unable to hold myself up any longer, I collapsed to the floor, covering my face with my hands.

A moment later, I felt Shane once again grab hold of my shoulders gently, yet firmly, and I knew I couldn't push him away again.

"Mitchie." Shane's voice was firm, worried, and somewhat harsh as he shook my shoulders slightly. "Who was on that phone?" He asked, and I opened my mouth to tell him, but only choked on the words before I'd even uttered a single one.

"Shane, just let her calm down." Nate told Shane quietly, although I still managed to hear him. Ignoring them both, I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at it as I tried to force myself to stop hyperventilating. What had my father meant when he'd said that he'd sent someone to come and get me? Why had he even called, and where in the world had that phone come from?

Shane had backed away, probably only because Nate had forced him to, and finally, I'd managed to calm myself enough that I could speak.

"My dad." I whispered, and I heard a strangled sound come from Shane, as he stepped closer to me. "The phone call was from my dad." I repeated, still shaking, my breathing still not yet level. And for a moment, there was complete silence, and only our heavy breathing could be heard.

"What did he say?" Shane's voice was suddenly shadowed with anger, and although I knew he wasn't upset with me, I still shrank back slightly, wincing at his harsh tone. He seemed to realize I was already wound, and that his tone wasn't helping the situation.

"The line kept breaking up, but I did hear him tell me that he was sending someone to come and get me." I bit my lip as I finished, not sure of what to expect from Shane, or Nate - who before this, had no idea what a messed up father I had - and stiffening as I waited for either one to speak.

"I won't let them get you, Mitchie, you have to trust me on that. You're fine, you're safe -" Shane sounded so sure, so convincing, that I might have believed him, if it wasn't for the obvious fact that I _wasn't_ safe, not if my father already knew where I was. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, as I figured that the cell phone had probably had a tracking device on it, since most these days did.

"What's going on?" Nate broke in, sounding slightly overwhelmed and worried, and Shane cut himself off, releasing me as he turned to face his brother.

"Her dad's the reason she's blind." I could hear Nate give a small gasp, and I flinched automatically as Shane forced the words out of his mouth, sounding as if the words were sticking in his throat.

"Everything will be okay, Mitchie, you have to believe me." Shane's soft, hardly audible tone still caught my attention, and I gave him a small smile to let him know that I appreciated his effort to comfort me, although on the inside, they were not working because I knew, sooner or later, I would have to face my father - and my past.


	9. Nine

**A/N: **_Hey guys! I am so, so sorry for the long wait, honestly I've just been lacking inspiration to write, and to even finish this chapter was a struggle for me (It took me at least four days to write it - sorry for the crappy ending). Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter ;) Please review on your way out - every review inspires me to write more! ;) Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Camp Rock, nor Camp Rock 2, nor... whatever else you might possibly think I own. ;)_

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**"I **have to go out, just for a little while." Shane's words sunk deep into my skin as I flinched, immediately shaking my head, my heart racing faster at the thought of being left alone in this strange house. I heard Shane sigh, and then Nate whisper something under his breath that I couldn't quite catch, and then Shane returned his attention to me. "Nate will stay with you, I'll be back really soon. Trust me, I wish I didn't have to go, but I have no choice in the matter."

"It's fine." I lied, although I probably didn't manage to fool him, with the way I'd panicked when he'd first mentioned leaving. Truth be told, I still didn't trust Nate completely, mostly just because I didn't know him as well, and there was still that little voice in the back of my head, convinced that Shane would leave me eventually, forever.

Shane sighed, obviously knowing I was lying, but deciding to ignore that fact that the moment.

"I will be back as soon as I can be." He promised, and I could hear his footsteps retreating into the distance, and then the sound of the door slamming shut. There was a moment of awkward silence before Nate coughed, and I smiled in the direction the noise had come from.

"So, what should we do?" I asked, still somewhat unsure and nervous at the fact I was alone in the house with someone I barely knew, especially after the phone call I'd gotten.

"Twenty questions?" I could hear the joking note in his voice, and, still somewhat reluctant to let my guard down, I offered him a teasing smile.

"Fine. I'll go first. Middle name?" I laughed, for a moment forgetting my previous concern and simply allowing myself to get caught up in the silly, pointless game.

"Jerry." Nate replied easily, as if there was nothing completely random about our conversation. "What's yours?"

"Devonne." I answered, for a second wondering how I'd managed to remember that detail, considering even my last name had sounded foreign to me earlier. I decided not to question this sudden memory, though, and continue on with the game. "Favorite sport?" I asked, as the random question popped into my head.

"Golf." I resisted the urge to point out the fact that I'd meant _athletic_ sport, and instead just stick out my tongue (why, I didn't know). Nate chuckled, although I still wasn't sure what was so hilarious about this game, except it's extreme, random details. "What's your favorite movie?"

"Eagle Eye." I didn't hesitate to respond, and there was a moment of surprised silence before Nate scoffed.

"Yeah right. You're kidding?" He didn't try to hide the fact that he thought I was only joking, however, I was fully serious - that movie was epic. Shaking my head at him, I reinforced my answer.

"Not at all. Eagle Eye is just... awesome." I rolled my eyes in the direction of his voice, as if I couldn't believe that he'd thought I was just joking, and continued. "I hate chick flicks, sorry to disappoint you." There was another hesitation before Nate replied.

"You didn't... I just didn't expect that, honestly." He sounded as if he was apologizing, although I wasn't quite sure why, but I simply shrugged it off and instead continued on with the game.

"So... what's _you're_ favorite movie?" I was curious, and slowly, I noticed that despite my immediate worry about being left alone with Nate, I was beginning to enjoy myself, unintentionally. Nate laughed before he replied.

"Juno." I laughed - I couldn't help it. After the fact that I had just revealed that my favorite movie was Eagle Eye, he'd said Juno... no offence, of course, but it was hilarious how different our style of movies was. "Hey!" Nate protested, and I simply rolled my eyes at him, not bothering to apologize, since we were both laughing already.

"Favorite drink?" Nate interrupted.

"Coke, of course. What's yours?"

"Pepsi." I couldn't help the fact that my mouth had dropped open - I was astonished with how different we were, in so many aspects, and yet how comfortable it was to be around him. You would think that with our differences, even in the little things, we would have a hard time getting along, and yet I felt strangely relaxed, despite everything that had happened earlier.

"How can you like Pepsi over Coke? Seriously... Pepsi's gross." I stuck out my tongue - of course, I was only teasing him, because I'd had Pepsi quite a few times, and it wasn't terrible, but it had just lacked the same glorious taste that Coke had.

"Not at all!" Nate protested, probably rolling his eyes at me, although I didn't mind. "Favorite food?" He continued, and I smiled, because I knew immediately what I would say.

"Chocolate!" I cried right away, and I heard Nate laugh.

Before Nate had the chance to make fun of my answer, the sound of the doorbell ringing silenced us both. I flinched, subconsciously, my father's words still embedded into my skin.

"Nate?" I frowned at the sudden silence that had fallen over us, and the fact that he hadn't responded. My initial panic returning, I rose from the chair, my hand firmly gripping the back of it as I once again called out to Nate. And, once again, there was no response. The phone call from my father flashed all too quickly into my head, and I flinched at the memory, my heart racing in my chest. Why was I suddenly so afraid again?

I jumped at the sound of scuffling feet, my hands still holding the chair's back in a death grip, as I half-turned in the direction of the noise, wishing - not for the first time - I could see.

"Mitchie!" I jumped, spinning around at the sound of Nate's panicked voice, before I felt someone grab hold of my arms, pulling me backwards. Panicked, kicking and screaming, I tried desperately to pull myself away, only knowing that it surely wasn't Nate holding me, since his voice had come from the opposite direction. Before I could jerk out of the stranger's grasp, something hard hit me over the head, and I collapsed, giving into the darkness immediately.

**xXxXx**

My head was spinning, the headache stronger than ever. My body ached, and when I tried to move my hand up to touch my burning forehead, I discovered that I couldn't - my hands had been strapped down to something. Groaning, trembling, I sucked in a shaky breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I struggled against the ropes that held me down.

"Don't struggle now, darling." I flinched at the stranger's voice, which was suddenly right beside my ear, hardly daring to breathe. "You won't escape from those, and you'll only hurt yourself trying to do so." I opened my mouth to lash out, to ask why I was here, to ask what they'd done with Nate, but my throat was simply too dry, and all that came out was a hardly understandable croak. Swallowing, flinching at the stranger's breath on my cheek, I turned my head away from the stranger and tried to calm my racing heart.

"Who are you?" I managed to ask, although my voice broke as I tried to speak, and I wasn't even sure that the stranger had managed to understand me, since he didn't respond right away.

"I'm a friend, darling, and soon enough, you'll realize that." The stranger replied, and although I highly doubted every word he'd said, I didn't bother to call him a liar, since my throat was in too much pain to waste my words.

"What have you done with Nate?" I asked, swallowing again, and slowly, my head began to clear. "And Shane... if you've hurt them..." I coughed, the words feeling like sandpaper in my throat as countless possibilities flooded my head. A loud, clear laugh came from the stranger, and I felt anger bubble up at his harsh response.

"We haven't hurt them at all, darling, in fact... they aren't even here. Just you." He responded, his breath hot against my ear. I shook my head, turning away from him again, biting my lip as I tried not to panic. "And soon, all your worries will be over, and... don't worry, darling, because Shane will certainly be coming here, if that's what your wondering." At that, my head snapped around, as I jerked at the ropes, attempting to launch myself towards the stranger. I wanted to attack - I wanted to scream at him not to bring either Shane, or Nate, to... wherever I currently was. There was another laugh, and I felt the stranger move away.

"She's awake, sir." He yelled, obviously to someone else, and another pair of footsteps soon approached, rapidly, although the new stranger didn't speak immediately. When he did, it sent chills down my back, and I froze, because the voice sounded all too familiar.

"Thank you, Rick." The voice was calm, collected, and all too mellow for the situation - just like it had sounded over the phone. I hardly dared to move, my heart beating much too rapidly in my chest as it all came crashing down on me. The voice, the man who'd called me his 'daughter', was the one who was most likely responsible for my kidnapping. The man's footsteps came closer, and I tensed unconsciously, my palms curling into fists as I waited, on the verge of panic, for him to speak again.

"Well, daughter, it's certainly been long enough." He spoke slow, as if he knew how much pain just the sound of his voice put me in, and was enjoying it. "Do you know who I am?" The question was stupid, because we both knew that who he was was obvious.

"An evil, wicked man?" I spat, and I felt him straighten at my harsh tone, although I wasn't sure how he'd expected me to respond, anyways. Had he expected me to feel angry, or had he expected for me to ask _why_ - or, if the rumors were true. I had never heard of a father that could do something this terrible to his daughter, but at the moment, it was hard for me to doubt that he had. Most normal fathers didn't kidnap their daughters and then tie them up, or at the very least make threatening phone calls, and they _certainly_ never had caused them to become blind.

Oh, how I wished for sight at this moment - but of course, they must've known that, because their laid-back attitude said they weren't worried about me escaping in the least bit.

My father - oh, how I hated referring to this man as that - gasped, and although he sounded quite real, I didn't dare to believe that he was innocent, in any way. Too much had happened lately for me to trust anyone fully.

"Darling... I'm not the enemy." His tone sounded warm, truthful, and I bit my lip as I tried to block out the sticky sweet words that he was filling my head with.

"Yes... yes, you are." I spat back, my head tilted in the direction of his voice. He was the enemy, there was no doubt in my mind. "You're terrible, sick, twisted..." I trailed off, as a sharp pain flashed through my head, right before someone slapped me across the face.

"How dare you?" This wasn't my father's voice, but the man that had first been in the room when I woke up. I cried out, turning my head away from the slap, before I felt the stranger being pulled away, his feet sliding across the floor as he was dragged away from where I was currently lying.

"Rick! Don't hurt her - don't you see how they've managed to poison her mind? It's not her fault. I'd react the same in such a situation. It's only typical." I hesitated - all these words, confusing and uncertain, made my head spin as I tried to decipher truth from lies. Of course, I couldn't deny the fact that Shane was the person I trusted most at the moment, and I knew he wouldn't lie to me. But had he simply be misinformed by Dr. Collins? Or was everything as it had seemed? I couldn't make sense of up nor down right now, and all I wanted to do was be back in Shane's apartment, with Shane's arms wrapped around me, telling me that everything would be okay.

"I'm sorry, darling." I flinched at his touch on my cheek - I wanted to scream at him not to touch me, to stay away, to take me back to Shane's apartment, where I had felt safe.

"What did you do to Nate?" I snapped, trying my best to ignore the lingering feel of his palm on my face, and instead focus on the important thing, such as what they'd done to Nate after they'd broken into the apartment. My father paused before he answered.

"We tied him up and left him in the closet, darling. We couldn't have him calling the police now, could we? Don't worry - I'm sure that one of his brothers is bound to find him... at some point." There was a slight chuckle as he finished his sentence, and I tensed, wishing they'd left my hands free, so I could take a good swing at him.

Instead, I felt tears filling my eyes, and running down my cheeks. I didn't want to cry in front of them - I didn't want to appear any weaker then I already was - but I couldn't seem to get the idea across to my brain. Ducking my head, taking a deep breath, I could feel myself trembling.

"Do you think it's possible?" I barely caught Rick's whisper, but immediately, I stiffened, not raising my head to show that I'd heard. My father hesitated before responding.

"That she's lost her memory? Yes, very... it was risky. That was always a possible side effect." He sounded thoughtful, and I flinched, wondering how he could remain so calm after everything he'd done.

"I hate you." I hissed, raising my head and staring in the direction of his voice, my tone dripping with venom. Did he even care? I couldn't see his expression, for obvious reasons, and his tone gave nothing away. In fact, he didn't speak at all. Instead, he simply turned and walked away, his footsteps (and Rick's, a moment later) clattering loudly on the floor, before the sound of a door shutting could be heard, and then... silence.

I jerked at the ropes that bound my arms, wishing that they would miraculously break, and hence I might have at least _some _chance of getting out of here, but of course, all that I got for my efforts was the ropes digging into my skin painfully, and I stopped soon, falling back against the wall and trying to choke back my tears. My mind wandered to Shane, and if he'd gotten back from his errand yet, and then to Nate, who I hoped desperately was alright.

I forced myself to stop crying - to withhold my tears - if only for the fact that I hated giving them the satisfaction of seeing how weak and helpless I really was. Of course, I had no doubt that he, understandably, already knew just exactly how small I was, and I was terrified because of it. He knew my weaknesses better than I did, myself.

It was that thought that kept me up that night, staring sightlessly towards the ceiling. In the end, I couldn't even trust myself, because... I didn't know myself.


	10. Ten

**A/N:**_ I'm alive! haha, I know it's a shocker._ _I would say sorry for not updating in about... forever, but I think I've already said it a hundred times & everyone's probably sick of hearing me apologize already. I know it's been a long time, but I've just been busy with my personal life & completely unmotivated to write a single thing. I haven't even written a word on any of my stories in a few months, at least. I just feel like all of my stories are a bit too crazy and not really worth finishing (actually I'm including this story in the list, but I figured it wasn't as bad as some of my other ones). After re-reading this today, and realizing that I do make my characters a bit too bipolar, I decided to try to at least finish this. No promises, but I'll try. Anyways... here's chapter 10. Enjoy :)_

_Disclaimer: God, I forgot about these! I don't own Camp Rock... duuuuuhhhhh & I'm so sick of saying that, lol._

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**I**t felt like forever before anyone returned. I wasn't sure how long they'd left me in the room, since I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to care. My head was spinning - now, not only from the pain that I'd already had, but from the constant confusion I felt as I tried to put pieces together. The most nagging thought was the fact that I had no clue who _I _was - it had occured to me later on that once, maybe, I hadn't considered my father to be evil. Maybe, at one time, I'd even been _like_ him.

I wanted to deny it, to say that it wasn't even possible, but I couldn't even be sure of myself at this point. I didn't even know myself.

I hated the fact that I was crying over, not the fact that I'd been kidnapped, but the thought of being someone like my father.

I wished desperately that my head would relax and stop jumping to conclusions, always assuming the worst, when I truly had no idea what was going on. For all the disturbing possibilites, it could turn out to be that I wasn't like my father at all. Maybe I was perfectly innocent in all of this; maybe it wasn't my fault I'd gotten wrapped in this mess in the first place.

And on that note, my thoughts swirled back to Shane, and Nate, who, attempting to do a good deed, had gotten themselves wrapped up in an insane mess. It was my fault, really, that they'd even gotten involved. I regretted the fact that Shane had decided to step in and try to protect me from those boys - he should've just kept walking.

And now I was crying all over again, over the fact that Shane _had_ stopped, and _had_ helped me, when I wasn't even sure that I'd deserved his kindness. Why had he been so caring to a complete stranger?

And then I had no time left to contemplate over things that confused me, for the next instant I heard the sound of the door to my room being opened. I wished they had untied me before they'd left, so I could at least be able to move away from the footsteps that were drawing closer by the second.

A hand touched my cheek, and I flinched away from whoever had come to stand beside me. I wanted to strike out, or at the worst simply jerk away, but the ropes that bound me tightly were strong and not easily broken.

"You know, we aren't the bad guys." I held back my gasp as I heard my father's voice in my ear, his breath hot against my cheek, and turned to block out his words. Until I'd regained some sense of up and down, I wasn't trusting either of us. The only one I would trust right now was Shane. "It was never meant to go this far. We had planned on this, somewhat - although it still hurts when you've got your daughter telling you that she hates you. Darling, we can fix your memory soon enough, and, in time, your sight."

At this, I froze. I had heard Shane say Dr. Collins had suggested that my blindness may be reversable, but to hear my father put it so plainly made me wonder if it actually was possible. Until this moment, I'd forced myself to think that I would probably be blind forever.

The sound of a second set of footsteps cut my father off, and I heard the newcomer quietly enter the room.

"Does she remember anything, at all?" The newcomer's voice was so farmilar, so recognizable, and so terrifying that I'd swear my heart jumped into my throat. This voice I knew, this voice was one that made my blood run cold, and made my thoughts immediately jump back to when I'd first met Shane, when he'd stopped those boys. This voice belonged to one of the boys in the group, the one that had acted as if he was their leader.

"You!" I couldn't hold back my gasp of shock, and a wild panic as I thought about what had nearly happened before, and how Shane wasn't anywhere around to protect me this time.

"Mitchie, let me explain -" He had stepped closer to me, and this time I fought against the ropes strapping me down. I had to do the impossible and get away.

"Darling," My father's hand touched my shoulder, and I couldn't hold back my sob any longer. I couldn't force down my panic, couldn't push away the insanity of this situation. I was so afraid, so terrified of what could happen next that I simply couldn't keep it inside. "He's not the enemy. I know you don't understand now, but once your memory's returned you'll see how it was, and you'll understand. _We_ are not your enemies."

"We have to do something!" The boy's voice held a note of desperation, "There's got to be something you can do to reverse the medicine's effects!"

"I'm working on it." My father's voice snapped back, "And for now, you'll do good to push your personal feelings away and be professional about this." My father's warning was clear, and I noted with a measure of shock that the boy held his tongue after.

And then I was panicking all over again, for the boy who'd scared me so badly just days ago was now scared of the man - my _father_ - who was standing beside me.

**xXxXx**

I didn't know what to make of any of this - somehow, I had a terrible feeling deep down in my stomach that said that, just as my father had told me, everything wasn't what it seemed. I was scared to death that maybe I had been involved in all of this in a way Shane, and myself, hadn't considered until now.

I wished, desperately, that maybe my memory would come back. At this moment, I cared more about remembering what had happened before than I did about getting my sight back.

"We've got to get her to remember, somehow." The boy's voice was quiet and I had to strain to catch his words, since he'd taken care to lower his voice. "She still needs to complete the mission, and at this point she's not fit to do anything besides give us away!"

"Maybe not," My father's voice whispered back, "This could actually work to all of our advantages, if you think about it. Mitchie's right where we want her - if you forget about the memory loss, of course - and she's close to getting the mission done already."

Mission? I frowned, wondering what in the world my mission had been, and how I was close to succeeding at it already. I hadn't done anything, besides being completely helpless and having to be rescued by Shane a million times already. I had done nothing close to 'completing a mission'.

"... in her state we can't trust her to act like she usually would - she's amnesic!" The boy's voice hissed back, "We need to develop the antidote, whatever that may be, and then we can set her out again to finish."

"Do you think I would actually have done all of this if there _wasn't_ an antidote? Do you think I would have purposely done this if I hadn't already created the antidote?" My father's voice was thunderous as he nearly growled at the boy. "I'm just wondering if maybe she's better fit to complete the mission in her current state."

_My current state_. Blind, amnesic, helpless, and hopelessly confused. I wasn't anything but a problem in my _current_ state, and I wasn't sure how my father had failed to notice that.

"The more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe it's better this way - for her, and for him, and of course for us."

"But she'll tell him about us, the moment's she's released." The boy simply sounded concerned, not for my own safety, but for his own, "It will put us in a bad position. And, if she remembers after we've let her go, she could lead him back here."

"Not necessarily." My father replied, before he lowered his voice even more, and suddenly I could no longer hear their conversation. Not that it mattered anyway, because I couldn't make head nor tail of anything they were saying. Their words were only confusing me more so, and my head was pounding at the stressful situations I'd been put in recently.

When would things start to make sense?


	11. Eleven

**A/N:** _Well, another new chapter! I know it's really short & all but I just kind of stopped at a weird place... , if there's any of you out here who still think my story is decent - I hope this chapter's okay. By the way: I don't know if I'd mentioned this before or not, but this whole story was based off the song Whispers In The Dark by the band Skillet - it's an amazing song that you should really check out!_

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"**W**ell, Darling, it's your lucky day." I wasn't so sure of what my father's voice was saying in my ear, as he pulled at the ropes that strapped me down to the chair. With some relief, I felt the last one fall away and struggled to rise to my feet, nearly falling down at once. Three day straight in a chair hadn't helped my balance in the least. My head was spinning, and I reached for the back of the chair to steady myself, refusing to lean on my father for help. "We're letting you go back to Shane."

"Why are you doing all this?" I couldn't stop the question from tumbling out of my mouth, although I already knew I wouldn't recieve an answer. I hadn't managed to even get his first name out of all of this, and I highly doubted he would be willing to say anything else.

I was tired and confused and weak, and being so close to all these people I couldn't trust only made it worse. And now, randomly, they'd decided to just let me go, after all the trouble they'd gone through to get me here? I couldn't understand any of what was going on.

I stumbled away from my father's touch as his hand found my arm, not wanting to even be near him. He sighed.

"One day you'll remember, Mitchie, and realize you were wrong in your opinion of both of us."

And with that, two men quickly grabbed me and threw me into what I assumed was a car, and those were the last words I'd heard from my father. Before I could comprehend what had happened, I was thrown against the back of the seat as the driver slammed on the gas pedal and, with a screech, the car bolted forwards. I groaned as my head slammed against the car door - maybe when they had said they would release me, they'd meant that they were planning on killing me - at least it was all I could think of as the car slid dangerously down the streets. Maybe I hadn't misjudged my father at all.

It seemed I was to be released, after all, although I wasn't certain what they hoped to accomplish by pushing me out on my own. Unconciously, memories of that first day in L.A. began to push their way forwards, and I could barely hold back my tears. I'd rather them just kill me now than let me go back to that helpless position, where I was left to wander blindly down neverending streets until I was hit by a car or harrassed by another group of people. It was almost unbearable.

"This is the place," A voice spoke - the driver, possibly, "They aren't far from here, it won't take long for them to find her... if she can find her way to the street." There was a laugh at the end of his sentence, and I flinched. I could never forget about my mad dash headlong into traffic, or the way Shane's arms had wrapped tightly around me as we sat on the sidewalk after my near-death experience.

I slammed against the back of the driver's seat as he slammed on his brakes suddenly. The car had barely stopped when I felt someone push me out of the door, and I hit the sidewalk, rolling a few feet from the force. Groaning, lying on my sore back, I stared sightlessly up towards the sky, trying to catch my breath and collect myself. I was alone again, utterly alone, and somehow, this was worse than being a prisioner of my own father and his dangerous men.

I could never forget the horror of knowing that I was on my own in a big city, and unable to even see what was going on around me.

With a gasp, I pushed myself up, blinking back tears of pain as I stumbled to my feet, ignoring my aching body. If I was going to survive out here, I needed to find a way to get off the streets - before dark, this time.

As I stepped forwards, I felt something crack under my feet. Hesitantly, I dropped down to pick up the object, feeling it cautiously with my hands. With a small shock, I realized it was the sunglasses I'd gotten the first day, when someone had pushed them into my hands. I felt the cracked frame regretfully - whomever had pushed me out of the car had obviously thrown them out next to me.

A tear slid down my cheek - somehow, the fact that I'd destroyed the sunglasses cut more deeply than I had expected, and frowning, I let them drop from my hand. There was no time to mourn over something so unimportant, when I had much bigger issues to face.

It was time to begin moving, if for no other reason than the fact that my father might change his mind, and if that did happen, I wasn't going to simply sit where he'd left me, waiting to be kidnapped again. I had to keep moving, if nothing else I had to throw him off my trail.

I stumbled forwards, my hand held awkwardly infront of me, hoping desperately that I wasn't about to walk out into the street. To my relief, the sidewalk didn't drop off into the road, and there was no screeching brakes to warn me I'd nearly gotten myself killed.

It didn't take me all of ten minutes to realize that if this was going to work, I was going to have to stop pitying myself, and viewing myself as helpless. Success and failure simply didn't work together. I had to make this work, I had to stop thinking that I would never survive on my own.

Straightening slightly, I tried to pretend everything was alright and forget about everything that had happened - I had to focus on finding a hotel, at the least, where I could stay until I figured out how to get in contact with Shane.

Somehow, this small fact gave me the strength to continue walking - I had a goal now, instead of just wandering aimlessly waiting for someone to rescue me again. I had to do this on my own, I had to do _something_.

People brushed against me, ignoring me as I attempted to catch their attention - "excuse me," - and I groaned. This was too much like the day I'd been wandering without knowing where I was going or what I was doing here, and the helplessness I'd begun to feel as the day went on slowly began to return.

I stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, not able to help the tears from falling down my cheeks - I was tired and sore and afraid. Was there anyone in L.A. at all that I could get to direct me to a hotel? I knew that without someone to at least point me in the right direction, I would never find one, and so far not a single person had even spared me a moment of their time.

Why, of all cities to be lost in, did I have to be in L.A?


End file.
